Model Student
by mylittlebakersdozen
Summary: College student Bella branches out and take an art class for fun. Edward is seeking inspiration for his BFA exhibit. Now that he has found his muse, can he convince the model student to become his student model? AH, canon pairings. ON TEMP HIATUS!
1. Chapter 1: Proposals

A/N: Hello there! Welcome to my little brain doodle! I anticipate lots of fun, fluff and good times, with minimal angst. I'm the type of person who reads the newspaper funnies first thing. I mean, why not start the day with a chuckle, when you've got the rest of the day to deal with real-life crap? Just sayin'.

**Shelle87 **deserves a huge frickin' kiss for agreeing to re-beta this chappie specifically so I could have it accepted by The Twilight Awards' Under The Radar Fic post. Whoo-hoo! And she thinks that comma usage is not her strongest skill? Pfft. Could have fooled me!

Other thanks go to the fantastic ladies at **Project Team Beta**. Seriously, check them out. Your writing will get so much gooder. (Sorry, couldn't resist.)

**_Disclaimer:_ Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and the characters therein. No copyright infringement is intended. The intellectual property including, but not limited to, all characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to _mylittlebakersdozen_. No copying or reproduction of this work in any language is permitted without express written authorization of the author. Thank you!**

**Model Student, Chapter One: Proposals**

**BellaPOV**

_Oh man, why on earth did I ever sign up for this class?_

My blushing had become so frequent lately that everyone probably thought I had some rare skin disorder. Last semester, I bravely thought I should branch out of my normal comfort zone of literature courses and try an introductory art class. Much to my surprise, not only did I love it, but I also had a tiny bit of talent. Or at least I didn't embarrass myself too badly during class critiques. I would never be a great artist, but I took my time and I was pleased with the results. So this term I decided to take a figure drawing class.

I knew that we would be drawing nudes, but there is a huge difference between knowing and _knowing_. I mean, the first day when the model walked in and shrugged off her bathrobe I didn't know where to look first. While she was getting into her first pose I kept myself busy by arranging my supplies: compressed charcoal, vine charcoal, conte crayons and pastels. After executing a few deep breaths to keep my nervousness to a minimum, I looked up at the model.

She was beautiful – long blonde hair, legs a mile long and a face that could be on magazine covers. And those were just her G-rated parts.

I remember glancing down at my t-shirt and dirty jeans and immediately feeling inadequate. Weren't the models supposed to be average college kids like me? How did I end up in the one class with a "glamazon"? She was so confident and self-possessed. I wished I could feel like that.

Instead, I was all knobby knees and elbows, and I seemed to routinely ricochet off walls when I walked. My friends often told me that my best feature was my hair, but I never saw what was so special about it. It was long, thick and dark brown - pretty average to me.

Since that first class we had had several different models, all women, and all with very different body types. I couldn't help but nickname them: Twiggy was the skinny one, Wookie was the one who didn't shave, and Pleasantly Plump sported an impressive pot belly. I was fascinated that even though none were as classically beautiful as Glamazon, each woman was equally comfortable with her body. How did they do that? Especially when twelve pairs of eyes were scrutinizing every inch of their skin. None of the other students ever seemed bothered by the nakedness on display, but I always felt downright rude staring at the models.

I never knew their real names as our instructor didn't bother with that detail. Then again, maybe that was the point. Maybe I would have had a harder time sketching nude models if I thought of them as real people instead of nameless mannequins. What an odd thought. After a lifetime of mixed messages from the media regarding how I, as a woman, should both look and be looked at, here I was actively objectifying these women. For within the confines of my class, the models were merely elements of a still life and did not have boyfriends or medical issues or term papers due. I wondered whether they felt liberated from the weight of daily life during their modeling, or if it gave them a sanctuary to reflect upon the minutiae of life.

"Change position!"

Had it really been five minutes already? Today's model quickly moved into a different pose. With my concentration broken, I started to blush furiously again. Naively, I had assumed that because all of our previous models had been women, all future models would be as well. Holy moly, was I wrong. Today's model was _all_ male, and I was more self-conscious than ever.

Growing up, boys had kept their distance from me. Now, I can sort of understand why. I knew I wasn't ugly, but I was introverted and shy. It probably didn't help that my dad was the Chief of police of Forks, my hometown. This alone probably discouraged _most_ guys from asking me out; except for Mike Newton. Ugh. He was nice enough, I guess, but really wasn't my type. I learned that I had zero interest in discussing Star Trek or Transformers, his preferred conversation topics, during our one and only date. I may have enjoyed the idea of having a boyfriend, but I certainly wasn't desperate enough for one to suffer seeing Mike, for any reason, outside of school.

Needless to say, I didn't have much experience with boys, and I had certainly never seen one naked before - until today. Luckily, today's model was only average-looking, nothing like the Glamazon. Still, I had a hard time looking at him without blushing. I mean, this guy was just so comfortable with his, um, _private_ parts hanging out for everyone to see.

"Take advantage of this model, people," barked Garrett, our instructor. "You don't often find one who knows so many dynamic poses."

Garrett could be gruff, but he knew how to get our best efforts on paper. He didn't say much, so when he did, everyone paid attention. His critiques of our work were thoughtful and constructive without being patronizing. I liked him and his forthright manner. Even his appearance was straightforward: neat short brown hair, jeans, a t-shirt and sneakers. Nothing about him screamed artist but I had seen an exhibit of his in one of the campus galleries last semester, and I was blown away by his passionate use of color. I guess you really can't judge a book by its cover.

"Change position!"

I grabbed another sheet of newsprint and quickly started to sketch the new pose.

"Okay, people, enough with the warm-up sketches," Garrett finally announced. "Get out your good paper, some vine charcoal, and let's do a long pose."

"Wish we had the blonde bombshell today," the guy next to me muttered.

The model must have overheard him because I saw him smirk in our direction. Huh. Wonder if they know each other? Gah, wouldn't _that_ be awkward?

While Garrett positioned the model into a new, more comfortable stance, I set up my materials. I put a fresh piece of paper on my masonite sketch board and grabbed a few sticks of vine charcoal, a white conte crayon and my kneaded eraser. Then, eschewing the regular easel, I sat down on the floor and prepared to draw. The model was turned in such a way that I could get a really interesting side view, without feeling like his penis was staring at me.

Over an hour later, Garrett directed the model to robe himself and dismissed him for the day. I stretched and stood at my easel, putting some final touches on my drawing.

Having a male model wasn't as mortifying as I thought it might have been. At least I didn't trip and fall onto him, which would necessitate my dropping the class out of sheer humiliation. Instead, I was proud of myself. I was an adult, and I could look at the male form in an objective, mature way, and even my blushing had stopped after awhile.

Silently congratulating myself on my maturity, I turned to leave the studio and slammed squarely into someone.

"Oof," I heard my victim groan.

My portfolio dropped and sketches of the naked man scattered onto the floor.

"Shit," I mumbled as I quickly bent down to gather up my drawings. Then, turning my head to whoever I bumped into, I apologized to their knees. "Sorry! I'm a terminal klutz. I'm thinking of installing one of those flashing hazard lights onto my head."

"No harm done," replied an oily voice.

_Terrific._

Of all the people I could have bumped into, it had to be James. This guy seriously gave me the creeps. At first glance, he didn't seem too threatening; he was of medium height and build and kept his dark blonde hair pulled into a low ponytail at the base of his neck. But, he had beady little eyes which I felt were often watching me, much like a hawk might observe its prey. He also stood much closer to me than I was comfortable with. While there was nothing overtly sinister about him, my hair stood on end whenever he was near, and I certainly would not want to run into him in a dark alleyway.

"Let me help you pick these up," he offered, crouching down next to me. Coming from anyone else's mouth, those words might have sounded sincere. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that if he was a child molester, he'd use the same tone of voice to offer candy to a little girl.

"Oh, that's okay. Thanks anyways. I got it." I tried, unsuccessfully, to refuse his help.

He started to go through my sketches from today's class, making little appreciative _hmm_ noises. "So Bell-a," he began slowly, "you seem to have quite an eye. I wonder if you have ever been a model yourself."

"Uh, no."

_And I'm not likely to be, either._

"Why not? You have a fantastic figure. In fact, I'm working on a special project and I would love to have you model for me."

_What? Did I just hear that correctly?_

"I'll pay you for your time and I can work around your schedule," he cajoled seductively. "C'mon, what do you say? I think you'd be… perfect."

I gave an involuntary shudder as his eyes raked over my body, mentally undressing me.

"Um, thanks, James, I'm flattered, but I'm really not comfortable doing that. Maybe someone else in class can help you out." I finished putting my portfolio back together and hurried out the door, hoping fervently that he would not follow me.

I quickly left the building and headed for my favorite spot by the pond, trying to shake the disquieting encounter from my bones.

**EdwardPOV**

_God, I love to watch people. So many different agendas, so many expressions. So confident that they are all unseen and anonymous._

I pulled out the sketchpad from my messenger bag and grabbed a soft pencil. Faces appeared beneath my hand, just a few lines to show their basic features: two girls laughing, another chatting on her cell phone. I watched a jock check out the ass on some girl.

_Yeah, I'd tap that._

I let my gaze expand further out to a couple kissing down by the pond.

_Eh, get a room._

Then, a young mother and her toddler stopped to feed the ducks. I quietly sketched them for a few minutes, smirking as the kid screeched when a duck got too close.

And then, I saw her.

Sitting on what I assumed to be her favorite bench, the brown-haired girl, whom I had first noticed a week ago, grabbed a book from her bag and tucked her feet up under her. She was obviously an art student, for she had the ubiquitous masonite board and portfolio with her. But I never saw her drawing - only reading. That little bit of mystery intrigued me.

Today, she seemed distracted and unable to focus on her book. She eventually got up and headed over to the Student Center, so I was able to get a fantastic view of her ass the whole way.

_Sweet_.

I loved watching the gentle sway of a woman's hips.

Just as she reached the steps of the Student Center, she tripped. One of the guys hanging around wolf-whistled at her and she reacted as if she'd scurry into a mouse hole if she could. Poor thing. Looks like she doesn't like people paying attention to her. Too bad she's both gorgeous _and_ clumsy. I'd bet she gets lots of unwanted attention.

I looked down at my sketchbook and saw easily a dozen thumbnail sketches of this girl. Some were head shots, featuring her beautiful mahogany hair curled over one shoulder. One was just of her feet, in a cute little wonky pose. I had captured other little mannerisms as well: the way her fingers twirled a lock of hair, and how she gently chewed her full bottom lip. Her image just seemed to appear so effortlessly for me on paper.

I had a meeting with Professor Aro, my advisor, next week to present my proposal for my BFA exhibit. He had been hounding me recently to stop procrastinating. I wonder…

I walked into the Student Center and headed straight for the coffee shop. Three bucks lighter in the wallet, I walked back out with some fresh caffeine_. Where might the girl have gone? _I wanted to find out if she would model for me.

Although I wasn't averse to giving Professor Aro a complete line of bullshit, I was starting to get excited that I might actually have a real theme to present. That girl just did something for me. Really got my creative juices flowing.

_Heh, those aren't the only juices flowing,_ I smirked.

I'd love to see that body in all of its glory, whether as a model or not.

I strolled through the undergrad lounge and spied her curled up on one of the overstuffed chairs. She had her laptop out and was typing something. I found a seat behind her, so she couldn't see me. I figured I could watch her for a while longer before I walked over to her.

A few minutes later she looked up and waved to a friend. Another dark-haired girl strolled over, seemingly pleased to see her. This new girl was pretty, but wore prominent dark glasses that overpowered her delicate features.

"Hey, Bella, how ya doin'?" she said with a smile.

_So my muse's name is Bella. I like the sound of that. It suits her. Bella. Bella. _

I could almost imagine myself whispering her name into that beautiful mane of hair.

"Hey, Angela," she sighed, interrupting my reverie. "I'm okay, although I had another awkward moment with that creep in my art class."

My ears perked up – she had a lovely voice. It was soft, warm and sensual, yet seemed to transmit an undercurrent of vulnerability. I didn't usually eavesdrop on people, but I suddenly felt very _protective_ of this girl.

"James? Ugh. What did that slime ball do now?" Angela asked.

"Nothing major, but he caught me off guard. He actually had the nerve to ask me to _model_ for him. As if!" Bella snorted. "Yeah, I have a pretty good idea what his "special project" would entail. No thank you!"

_Well that little disclosure just shot my idea to hell. I'll have to think of a Plan B. _

"But class wasn't a total downer." Bella lowered her voice and smiled. I could detect a sense of excitement coming from her, so I held my breath to hear what she had to say next.

"We had our first male model today," she giggled shyly.

I smiled. _She seems so innocent with that giggle. It's kinda sweet. But surely she's seen guys naked before... _

"Now we're talking! Spill!" Angela certainly seemed to be the less inhibited of the two. She sat up straighter in her chair and focused all of her attention on Bella, eagerly anticipating whatever morsel of information was headed her way.

"Well, I was definitely embarrassed at first," Bella continued, "but I've kinda gotten used to the female models we've had, how to look at them objectively, I mean. So I just had to remind myself that he was no different…"

Angela snorted derisively and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, cut me some slack!" Bella fired back with a grin. "But the worst part was when I actually looked at him _there_, I thought he was, um, _deformed_."

_What the hell? _

"Wha-?" Angela looked at her as though she had just grown three heads.

_Well, at least I wasn't the only one who was confused._

"He wasn't circumcised," Bella said softly, growing redder by the moment. "By the time I realized I had been staring, I was so embarrassed that I couldn't look at him again for a good ten minutes."

I tried to stifle a laugh, but it came out sounding like a strangled cough. Both girls looked up and caught me eavesdropping. With nowhere to hide, I merely grinned at them. They both flushed red and erupted into giggles, burrowing further down into their chairs to hide from view. Their conversation continued in whispers, effectively cutting off my entertainment, so I turned my attention back to my coffee and to general people-watching.

Before long, the girls stood up to leave. I watched as Bella stretched and then smoothed her jeans down. She was petite but had a nice little body, definitely well-proportioned. And those jeans showed off her curves very well. When I noticed that she and her friend parted ways in the hall, I quickly gathered my stuff and jogged to catch up with her.

"Hey," I said as charmingly as I could. It wasn't my best effort, considering "hey" was only one syllable, but it must have worked because she stopped and turned around to look at me.

**BellaPOV**

_Holy shit. It's that hot guy who overheard me and Angela talking about, um, the male model. Fuck! I hope he doesn't want to rub it in and make my public humiliation complete._

I just stared at him, not quite sure what to say.

"I'm Edward. Edward Cullen," he smiled, extending his hand. "And you're Bella?"

_How the fuck did he know my name?_ "Uh, yeah. How did you …?"

"I overheard your friend call you that."

"Oh. Yeah, you _overheard_ quite a bit, didn't you?" I didn't mean for it to sound as snarky as it did, but I was flustered by his good looks and retreated to my safe zone of sarcasm.

He actually looked a little embarrassed at my comment and ran his hand nervously through his hair. God, what hair! After we had noticed him listening to us, Angela and I had agreed that he had probably the best sex hair we had ever seen: reddish-bronze, tousled in all directions, and so soft-looking. He was definitely eye-candy. He was over six feet tall and easily the most handsome guy I had ever seen. Talk about chiseled cheekbones. And was that a hint of cologne? I nearly sighed out loud, but luckily caught myself in time. This guy just looked too perfect, as if he had walked straight out of my imagination_. _

_Yeah, I wish. If only my life worked that way._ _He's probably a head-case or something._

"Um, I'm sorry, what?" I stammered as I realized that he had been saying something.

"I said," he smirked crookedly, "that I don't make a habit of eavesdropping. However, every now and again, I find that bending the rules a bit can be rather… _enlightening_."

"Mm-hmm," I murmured, wondering where he was going with this.

"Which way are you headed?"

"Porter Hall. My next class starts in about fifteen minutes so I really have to get going." I turned to walk away.

"Mind if I join you? I'm headed that way too." He looked sincere enough, and had a trace of a smile starting to turn up the corners of his mouth.

I shrugged, mystified as to why he would want to walk with me. As we neared the door I snuck a peek at him and became distracted by his strong jaw and hint of stubble. He _definitely_ had some good jaw porn going on. I made a mental note to thank Angela for pointing that feature of his out to me.

I remembered the door just as my toe kicked it, causing me to fall forward and hit my forehead on the glass with a "thunk".

_Shit. Why can't I remember basic stuff like walking? Oh yeah, because Mr. Jaw Porn Sex Hair is right next to me._

"Hey, you okay?" he said as he grabbed my arm.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Nothing a little Novocain can't fix." I was beyond embarrassed now.

"No really, that was a pretty loud thud." He leaned down to look at me and my breath caught. He had the most vivid green eyes I had ever seen, and they were only inches away from me, full of concern.

I licked my lips and tried to think of something coherent to say. "Yup. Fine," I squeaked.

_Real smooth, Bells. Now he'll run away thinking that your IQ just dropped fifty points from walking into a door. Or that maybe that was the reason why you walked into it in the first place. Gah! Just kill me now._

Edward smiled. "Okay," he said, opening the door for me. "Shall we?"

I silently thanked all the gods, Fates, wood-elves and whatever else for helping me get to class without another mishap. We didn't really say too much as we only had to walk by two buildings, but I was acutely aware of him the whole time. I smiled shyly as I glanced up at him through my lashes, and was rewarded by a brilliant, infectious grin of his own.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Edward," I said as we reached my destination.

"Oh, I have a feeling we'll meet up again soon." His voice lowered and became husky. "Bella," he nodded goodbye.

I watched him walk away, admiring his cute butt and broad, muscular back_. _

_Now there's a body I wouldn't mind drawing!_

I shook my head, wondering where _that_ had come from. I wasn't shocked, per se, because I had certainly been attracted to guys before. They just didn't reciprocate the attraction, and so I usually found it easier to pretend that it never existed in the first place.

_Hmm, maybe college will become a learning experience in more than just an academic way!_

I smiled at that thought and headed inside to French class.

End notes:

Well? Any thoughts? Any particularly memorable recollections of your first sighting of the Hooded Warrior?

(This fic is posted on FFnet, , and )


	2. Chapter 2: One o'Them Days

**a/n: Sorry it took me a month to update. I revised the first chapter (and deleted the original) and also wrote this one. Add in two sick kids, and, well, you get the idea. **

**Mucho gratitude to the awesome ladies over at Project Team Beta: **_**Zombie'sRunThisTown**_** and **_**izzzyy**_**. **

**Thank you to all those who have been reading, and to those of you who added my little brain doodle to story alert!**

_**Disclaimer:**_** Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and the characters therein. No copyright infringement is intended. The intellectual property including, but not limited to, all characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to **_**mylittlebakersdozen**_**. No copying or reproduction of this work in any language is permitted without express written authorization of the author. Thank you!**

**Bella POV**

French class was hard to concentrate on. Monsieur Caius kept trying to interrupt my thoughts of a tall, lanky, tousle-haired, velvet-voiced slice of heaven. With a face so beautiful it would make the ancient gods weep with envy. Eyes the color of brilliant cut emeralds. And that jaw… mmm. _Wonder what that stubble would feel like on my tongue?_

"Mademoiselle Bella? Souhaitez-vous vous joindre à nous aujourd'hui ?_(__Would you like to join us today?)_"

_Huh?_ "Excuse-moi, Monsieur Caius. Souhaitez-vous répéter la question s'il vous plaît? _(Would you please repeat the question?)_"

_Damn, I'm so busted. But what a nice way to go…_

I couldn't wait for the day to end so I could tell Angela all about this Edward guy. _Was he serious about seeing me around? I'd have to remember to not make a fool of myself again by walking into anything else. Hmm, how would I do that? Could I actually plan for that? Man, what wouldn't I give for the ability to _not _trip over a piece of dust…? _

"Mademoiselle."

_Uh-oh. Now he's really pissed off. Shit. I mean merde. I mean … oh fuck._

"Me voir après la class. _(See me after__ class)_"

"Oui, monsieur. _(Yes sir)_"

When class finally let out, I gathered my backpack and walked up to his desk. Monsieur Caius had a reputation for harshness, and I was apprehensive about the scolding I was going to get. I had always prided myself on being an exemplar student. The last time I had been disciplined by a teacher, I was in the ninth grade and was caught passing notes.

He cleared his throat and then turned his cold blue eyes on me. "Bella," he said. "I'm going to speak in English so I am sure that you understand me." He removed his wire-framed glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

I nervously shifted my feet.

"While I do not expect all my students to become French majors, I do expect a minimum level of courtesy. You may have been physically present in my class just now, but you were not prepared to engage. Nor to even pay attention. This is college, not some silly after-school tutoring session. As such, you are expected to act appropriately."

I opened my mouth to say something when he continued. "I'm not interested in excuses. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt that this was a one-time occurrence. However, if you wish to stay in my class, you will arrive prepared to participate from now on. You are dismissed."

Talk about feeling like a five-year-old. I left his office embarrassed and pissed off at myself.

_God-damned _guys_! I'm not like this! I don't swoon over people. And I certainly _don't _get chastised in class for it! What the fuck? This doesn't happen to me. I've always been a model student. I won't let some stupid guy come between me and my schooling. Charlie has worked too hard to send me here and I will not screw this up._

I thought of Charlie, my dad, working all those overtime hours, just so I wouldn't be saddled with enormous student loans. He was really very sweet, although he tried not to show it. Instead of being physically affectionate, Charlie preferred to let his actions speak for him. I fondly remembered when he installed chains on my truck's tires at the start of black ice season, just to keep me a little bit safer. I couldn't jeopardize my GPA and corresponding scholarship from Forks Savings and Loan just because I was attracted to some guy, no matter how good he looked. Or smelled.

I continued that little rant to myself as I headed back to the dorm. My next class wasn't for another few hours, and I just wanted to relax and put my bad mood behind me. I was better than this. With keys in hand, I was about to open my door when I noticed that annoying smiley-face just above the doorknob.

_Fucking awesome. _That was my idiot roommate's idea to tell me to fuck off because she was currently inside fucking someone. God-damned Lauren. I wonder who the flavor of the week was this time. Actually, I didn't want to know. She had just better stay off my god-damned bed this time.

I stormed off to the downstairs lounge, angry that I couldn't even grab a towel to take a nice hot shower. _What was with me today? I'm hardly ever in a bad mood. I must be hormonal. PMS. Yeah, that had to be it. _

My watch told me that lunch was in full swing at the dining commons, but I really wasn't in the mood to deal with the lines and mediocre food. Past experience had taught me that the fastest way to dissolve my current funk resided just across the quad. I left my portfolio in the corner of the lounge and ran to the campus store. I hadn't seen my pals Ben and Jerry for some time, and we needed to get reacquainted.

I walked slowly back to my dorm, enjoying my spoonfuls of Coffee Heath Bar Crunch. _Mmm. Much better. Nothing like twelve hundred calories of bliss to calm a person down._

Upon reentering the dorm lounge, I found Lauren looking through my portfolio.

"Hey!" I called to her. "What do you think you're doing?"

She actually had the gall to smirk at me. "Bella, I didn't know you had it in you! And here I thought you were such a prude. But tell me," she simpered, "was this the first time you ever saw a penis? What was that like for you?"

"Gee, Lauren, probably like it was for you. Oh wait, do you even remember back that far? Were you even in grade school yet? You must have been. Didn't you start whoring in junior high?"

_Where the hell did that shit just come from? _

She gaped at me, as shocked at my outburst as I was.

"Whatever, Miss Goodie Two Shoes," she retorted. "But at least I'm not ashamed of being a girl. I actually like my body."

I snorted.

"Maybe you should just get laid and get it over with, Bella. It would do you a world of good."

_This from the girl who can't seem to last more than a week or two with the same guy? I wonder how many STDs or abortions she's had. Eww, it would be better not to even think about that. _

"Mmm, thanks for the _advice_," I said as sarcastically as I could. "I'll think about it."

I grabbed my stuff and headed for my room. I really needed to get a single and ditch that bitch of a roommate.

My RA's door was open, so I stopped in after dropping off my stuff to see if she could pull any strings for me.

"Hey, Alice?" I asked tentatively, not sure what I might be interrupting.

"Oh, hey Bella, come on in!" her bell-like voice called to me. "What's up?"

Alice was sitting on her bed applying a coat of glossy red polish to her toenails. Her short black hair was arranged in little spikes all over, and she was wearing a skimpy little camisole and shorts. She was tiny, but what she lacked in stature she more than made up for in attitude. I loved and envied her self-confidence. She knew she was beautiful but never felt the need to rub it in my face.

Unlike the bitch I roomed with. Not that Lauren was beautiful, quite the opposite in my opinion. I never saw the need for having bottle-blonde hair and wearing gobs of make-up. In fact, maybe she'd be a little _more_ attractive if she could actually keep her mouth shut and clothes on for more than twenty minutes. _Yeah, right._

I sat down in one of Alice's pink furry beanbag chairs and started worshipping my ice cream gods again.

"Uh-oh. Spill," she said. "It's gotta be serious if you're attacking that pint at," she looked at her clock, "12:37 in the afternoon."

"This has just been the most fucked up day," I began, rubbing my face with my hand. "First this creep hits on me during my art class, then the most beautiful guy I've ever seen wants to walk with me to French class, where I manage to make a total ass out of myself and the professor chews me a new asshole afterwards, and then I get locked out of my own room by the school's biggest slut, who later goes through my work and has the nerve to insult me about it. Can't you get me into a single room? Please? I can't take her anymore."

Alice just blinked at me, trying to process all I'd thrown at her. "Um, okay. You've had a busy morning. But wasn't there something positive that happened in all that?"

I had to think for a moment. "Well, actually, I did just hand Lauren back a little of her own shit. Shocked the hell out of both of us, but I liked it!"

"No, shit-for-brains, although kudos to you for that. Didn't I hear you say something about the most beautiful guy you'd ever seen?"

"Oh yeah," I smiled, remembering.

"Well?"

"Well nothing. We met up in the student center, walked to my French class, and then he said he'd see me around. We talked for maybe a total of 10 minutes."

"And was he the reason you got your ass chewed out? Cause that really doesn't seem to fit with the Bella I know."

I sighed. "Yeah, I couldn't stop thinking about him. I thought Monsieur Caius was going to pop a vein in his head or something. I just couldn't concentrate at all."

She immediately started bouncing on the bed, clapping her tiny hands. "Oh Bella, this is so exciting! Forget everything else that happened, let's focus on this! Tell me all about him!"

It was hard to ignore her enthusiasm. Her excitement reminded me how I felt earlier in the day, before all the crap happened. And I really wanted to forget that crap. It took too much energy to be so bitchy. So I told her all about the yumminess that was Edward as we finished off my pint of ice cream together.

"Well, Bella, there's only one thing to do. We have to go shopping."

She was so matter-of-fact about it that I almost agreed. However, Practical Bella soon intervened and quickly put the kibosh on that idea.

"But Bella," she whined, "don't you want to make the best impression possible?"

"Alice," I sighed, "I don't have any extra money to go splurging right now, and Charlie is not about to send me money for frivolous things. Besides, Edward came up to me while I looked like _this_, and he didn't seem to complain. I'm not into those makeover things and if Edward doesn't like me exactly the way I am, then he can kiss my ass." I was starting to like this assertive side of me coming out.

Alice pouted. "But Bella, it would be so much _fun_!"

"It would be more fun to find me either a new room or a new roommate. Seriously. Because then we can go shopping for new room décor," I added, trying to placate her. Hell, who was I kidding? I wasn't above bribery at this point.

"Ooh, I love that idea!" she chirped, clapping her hands and bouncing again. "There's a really cute boutique in town that has the most adorable things. If I can't get you into a new wardrobe," she quirked her eyebrow at me, "then at least I can make sure that your living space sends the right message."

"Alice?" I asked warily, afraid of what she meant.

"Oh, you know, a little romantic, a little sexy. You want him to feel comfortable yet turned on at the same time."

"Are we still talking about my _room_ decorations? And what do you mean you want _him_ to get comfortable? Who is _him_?"

"Well, duh, Edward of course. You do want him to come up to your room, don't you?"

I blushed furiously at that. I hadn't really thought about any logistics like that. I mean, I had only just met the guy a few hours ago.

"I'll take that as a yes." Alice smirked. "Now let's see what we can do about getting you another room assignment."

-----

I ended up skipping lunch, as the ice cream was so filling, and eventually left Alice's room to attend my other classes. Thankfully the afternoon was nice and boring, as I had had enough drama that day already. I met up with Angela for dinner, as was our custom, and told her about everything that had happened since I left her at the student center that morning.

In the evening, I sprawled out on my bed and caught up on some reading, and even worked on an outline for one of my midterm papers. Fortunately Lauren didn't show up until after I had already gone to bed for the night. She made a big show of coming in, stomping around the room, tossing her stuff loudly, and in general being extra pissy. Now that I had calmed down from my crappy day, I could almost tolerate her. Almost.

_Please, Alice, work your magic_, I thought as I drifted off to sleep.

**a/n: Yes, short chapter, but I wanted to get it out to you guys faster. Please review! Chapter 3 is in the works.**


	3. Chapter 3: Beethoven and Daffy Duck

**Model Student, Chapter 3: Beethoven and Daffy Duck**

**BellaPOV**

I don't know how she did it. Frankly, I never expected that Alice could really do anything about my room assignment, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to ask. Remind me to never bet against Alice; that little pixie could move mountains if she put her mind to it.

We arranged to meet over lunch to discuss details of the move. When I arrived at the dining commons after my morning classes, I saw Alice waiting by the door. My enthusiasm was tempered, however, when I noticed she was not alone.

Alice was talking animatedly with a very tall, blond, good-looking guy. He seemed amused by her antics, and had a slightly indulgent smile on his face as he gazed at her. The differences between the two of them were striking. He was easily over six feet tall, and she barely reached his armpits. While Alice bounced on her toes and erratically waved her hands around while speaking, he maintained a relaxed and casual stance. He kept one hand at his shoulder, holding his backpack, while his other rested in his front jeans pocket.

Their body language implied an easy familiarity with each other, and knowing Alice, she would undoubtedly invite him to join us for lunch. I had been hoping to have a private conversation with her about the move, and didn't relish the idea of discussing personal matters in front of a stranger.

"Hey there," I greeted them.

"Hi, Bella! Let me introduce you to my boyfriend, Jasper," sang Alice in her usual cheery voice. "Jazz, this is Bella, the girl I was telling you about."

She noticed that my expression became wary. "Don't look so worried, Bella! Jazz is an RA in your new dorm. He helped me arrange everything for you!"

I quickly stuck out my hand and grinned at him. "Thank you _so _much! You have no idea how much this means to me!"

Jasper smiled graciously. Then, instead of shaking my hand, he gently brought it to his lips. "Well, you know what they say…," he drawled in a soft Southern accent.

"A friend of Alice is a friend of mine?" I asked with a smirk.

"Nope." His blue eyes twinkled at me. "If Alice ain't happy, ain't_ nobody_ happy!"

"Jazz!" cried Alice, playfully smacking him on the arm.

He bent down to kiss the top of her head. "Now darlin', the three of us all know that's true, so let's just go inside and have lunch." Jasper winked at me as he motioned for us to go first. I liked him immediately.

Once we had paid for our food and settled in at a table, I eagerly began asking questions.

"So, what's the deal? Where am I moving to? How did you guys do this so fast? Jasper, are you my new RA? Do I have to contact the administration office about any of this?"

Jasper chuckled and shook his head, letting Alice take command of the conversation.

"Goodness, Bella, eager much?" she asked.

Speaking through a mouthful of food just to annoy her, I replied simply, "Yesh!"

"Ugh! Honey, were you brought up by wolves or something? How can you eat that stuff anyway? It's so processed and unhealthy. You really should eat more salads," Alice opined while delicately spearing a grape tomato from her salad plate.

"Please," I scoffed. "Chicken pucks are one of the culinary world's great gastronomic delights. Just add some cheese, lettuce, tomato and a bun, and you have a complete balanced meal that you can eat with one hand."

Jasper smirked but wisely stayed silent, looking down at his own meal instead.

"Besides," I continued with a grin. "How many other frozen meat patties can make such a convincing smiley-face?" Picking up my sandwich, I peeled off the veggies to reveal the smiley-face I had drawn on the chicken patty with hot sauce.

"Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" laughed Jasper, in spite of Alice's death glare at him. "What? You told me she's taking an art class, Al."

Alice huffed and looked away, pretending that she didn't know us. She was so easy to get riled up sometimes.

I knew I had to play nice to get her to answer any of my questions, but I wanted her to stew for a bit longer - just for fun. Finally, I caught her attention and looked her straight in the eyes.

"Sorry, Alice." I tried to be as sincere as possible in my apology; I had information to obtain!

"Hmph. You're lucky I love you." Alice smirked at me from under her lashes, so I knew that she was just playing along as well.

The remainder of our lunch hour went quickly as Alice recited all the details she could about my new dorm situation. Basically, I would live in Butterfield Row, an area stereotypically populated by art students, in a rather unusual (and perhaps not totally legitimate) arrangement.

Jasper had heard from another RA in the building that a girl on the fourth floor wanted to move in with her boyfriend off-campus, and for whatever reason she didn't feel the need to include her parents in that particular decision. This girl apparently wanted a "roommate" to stay in the room and run interference if necessary.

Immediately I became concerned. "But Jasper, I'm a terrible liar. What if her parents show up? I couldn't …"

"Nah, they live across the country," he assured me. "And besides, they probably wouldn't mind anyways. Rosalie just likes to make decisions on her own."

Alice then piped in. "And besides, the university doesn't care as long as they still get paid their room and board fees. Think of it this way: you're paying as if you'd have a roommate, but really you get to have a single!"

"I don't know, Alice. It sounds too good to be true. There's got to be a catch."

"Oh, Bella, you worry too much," Alice scolded me. "I'm an RA, Jasper is an RA, and…," she looked at Jasper for help.

"Tanya," he replied.

Alice nodded. "And Tanya is an RA. If three RA's agree that this is aboveboard, then what's the problem? Are you having second thoughts? Don't tell me you'd rather stay with Lauren?"

"Okay, okay! Sheesh!" I didn't want to sound ungrateful, but I was still a little apprehensive. Honestly, though, the more I thought about it, what was the worst that could happen? Maybe I would have to move back in with Lauren. I'd hate that, but I'd accept it.

"Thank you, both of you. I really do appreciate all of this." I took a deep breath. "So, when can I move in?"

Because of conflicting class schedules, we decided to move my stuff over the weekend. This Rosalie girl had already moved most of her stuff to her boyfriend's apartment, so she agreed to our timeline after speaking with Jasper later that day. I was so antsy with anticipation that I had a hard time waiting for the week to end. As it was only Tuesday, I still had a long way to go.

Wednesday dawned overcast and drizzly. I really wanted to stay in bed rather than go to art class and see creepy James again. I groaned and rolled my eyes just thinking about it. I hope he found someone else for his "special project" and leaves me alone from now on.

I wasn't the type of girl to skip class for no good reason, though, so I got out of bed and put on my favorite purple turtleneck sweater. It was slim fitting, but not too tight, and was made from a fluffy kind of yarn so it was a little furry. It always made me feel as if I was wearing a hug, and I tended to wear it most often on rainy days. I paired it with jeans and some old sneakers, and after making a quick cup of coffee and grabbing a granola bar, I headed out of my room.

Lauren was still sleeping since she didn't have her first class until ten o'clock. This was probably the one thing I envied about her: the ability to sleep in.

I hated 8am classes. I was not a morning person. I firmly believed that no one should have to be awake and coherent at that hour. Unfortunately, most of the studio art classes started early in the morning because they were either two- or three-hour sessions. None of the afternoon or evening art classes interested me or fit into my schedule, which is why I found myself trudging to the studio at this ungodly hour, in the cold, wet drizzle.

I took a sip from my mug and sent a small, silent prayer to whoever had invented coffee. _Thank you. You are my hero._

Upon entering the studio, I glanced around the room and let out a sigh of relief at not seeing James. Maybe _he_ would skip class today. I selected an easel and made polite, minimal conversation with the girl next to me while waiting for class to begin.

We spent the first half hour doing warm-up sketches. Every five minutes or so our model would change into a new pose at Garrett's prompting. Wookie was our model today. Aside from what I considered to be somewhat excessive armpit and leg hair, she had a nice body.

I had found that I really enjoyed drawing women. I suppose I just took my own body for granted before. Now, however, I started to appreciate, in a different way, why men loved to use the adjective "curvy": the roundness of the forehead, slender shoulders, full breasts, circular areolas, pink nipples, the dip of the waist curving smoothly into the swell of the hips. Women just have so many curves! Wookie was a stark contrast to the male model from last class, who was all sharp angles. I was fascinated and thoroughly engrossed.

At the end of the warm-ups, Garrett brought out his iPod and some portable speakers.

"Okay, everyone, listen up," he began. "We're going to try a different exercise today. We'll do two thirty-minute poses. Use any media you like for this. At the end of the first pose, we'll take a short break and then continue for another thirty minutes. I want you to concentrate not only on what you see but also on what you hear. Let your ears inform you just as much as your eyes do."

Garrett looked around the room at us, smiling. "Anybody ever see _Immortal Beloved_?" A few of us raised our hands, myself included. That film starring Gary Oldman as Beethoven was one of my favorites.

"There's a scene in that movie where Beethoven asks what the purpose of music is. His friend comes up with some corny answer like, _it exalts the soul_, or some such shit." Garrett grinned while walking around the room. "Beethoven disagrees, saying that if you hear a waltz, you dance; if you hear a march, you march; if you hear a mass, you take communion."

He headed back over to his iPod before he continued. "Beethoven believed that hearing music brought the listener to the same state of mind as the composer."

Garrett fiddled with his iPod until he found the playlist he wanted. "I want you to experience something similar. Art is not created in a vacuum. You each bring your own emotional baggage into your work. See if the music I play influences you on any level. Will you make marks faster? Slower? Harder or softer? Will your drawing be monochromatic or full of color? Be aware of your reactions, but remember that it is just a drawing after all," he finished with a little smirk, and then started the music.

Bach's Suites for Unaccompanied Cello soon filled my ears. I momentarily closed my eyes and let the soothing music focus my mind. The calm, contemplative melody swirled around the room, and I intentionally made my portrait quiet and demure. The soft grey of the vine charcoal suited my mood, and as the drawing progressed I added some pink, mauve and green pastel.

Thirty minutes passed quickly. Garrett turned off the music and gave us a five minute break to stretch. When we were all back at our easels, he began his next playlist. The unmistakable beginning chords of Nirvana's 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' shook the room. I smiled broadly. This was going to be fun.

Switching gears, I chose my deep black compressed charcoal and white chalk. The playlist Garrett chose was an eclectic mix of punk and alternative rock. I loved it. I felt energized and even jumped in place a bit and mouthed the words to my favorite songs. My drawing also showed a radical departure from my previous one. This one was rougher, less refined, and more sketchy. It also _felt_ like it had more energy.

All too soon, Garrett told us to stop and put away our materials. I was still buzzed from the adrenaline-inducing tunes and was in a great mood. Even Garrett's odd choice of homework didn't faze me. Draw a song? No problem! I was so pumped with energy and ideas; I fantasized that I could skip the rest of my classes and just draw today.

I left class and headed over to my favorite bench by the pond, still playing Prodigy's 'Firestarter'in my head. The sky had stopped drizzling and the sun was even starting to poke out. This was going to be a terrific day.

**Edward POV**

I walked over to Bella's bench and watched the ducks swim by. I knew that she would probably be by around ten o'clock, so that gave me about a half-hour to myself. The drizzle had stopped awhile ago, but the bench was still damp, so I spread my jacket upon it and sat down. Pulling my sketchbook out of my bag, I started to doodle.

Ever since I spoke to Bella on Monday, I hadn't been able to get her out of my head. Not only was she a creative muse for me, but she also charmed and entertained me. I still snickered when I thought back to that look on her face after she walked into the door. She was so damn cute. I just wanted to spend more time with her to see what she would do or say next. Precious few people surprised me - my eternal observations of people practically guaranteed that - yet I was drawn to Bella.

I still had to perfect my Plan B, or Plan Bella, as I liked to call it. If she was unwilling to model for me, my senior exhibit wouldn't be nearly as successful as I would like it to be. My hope was that if we spent enough time together, Bella would see that I was not some skanky pervert who just wanted to get in her pants.

_Well, I do,_ I thought to myself. _But that's beside the point._

I had so many ideas for my exhibit, but before I could start working on it, I needed her cooperation. Ironically, even though I would love to see her naked, my concept did not hinge on Bella being unclothed.

_Hmmm. Maybe that could be the angle I employ to convince her to model for me._

I was lost in thought when I heard footsteps behind me. The bench was situated in such a way that it was slightly secluded, and neither the pedestrian nor I could see each other. I put away my sketchbook, hoping that Bella was the one coming toward me.

"Oh, excuse me," said that soft voice I longed to hear. "I didn't think anyone was over here."

"Hmm?" I turned around and smiled at her. "That's okay. Hey there, Bella."

She looked startled, but smiled back at me. "Um, hi."

"Would you like to share the bench with me? Or I can leave, if you wanted to be alone." I didn't want her to think that I was stalking her, even though that _was_ sort of what I was doing.

"No, no, you were here first. I'll just go somewhere else." She turned to leave.

"Hey, wait a minute. Seriously, you don't have to go. I really wouldn't mind some company."

"Yeah?" Bella asked with a shy smile. "Okay, if you're sure you really don't mind."

She walked over and leaned her portfolio and masonite board against the back of the bench. She sat down as far from me as she could, looking a little nervous.

"So, are you an art major?" I asked, pointing to her portfolio.

"Oh my god, no!" she laughed.

"What's so funny?"

Bella kept chuckling. "I'm just trying to picture it. Aside from having no talent, I think the art department would refuse me on the grounds of preserving public safety!"

"What? Why?"

"I tend to be a little clumsy," she confessed with an embarrassed smile.

"Nah, I don't believe that." I grinned mischievously at her. "It wasn't your fault that that door just materialized out of thin air."

Bella groaned and shut her eyes. "I was hoping you had forgotten about that."

"Nope, that one was a classic." I couldn't help but grin even wider as I moved a little closer to her. "But what does that have to do with the art department?"

She merely looked at me as if the answer should be obvious. "I suppose painting wouldn't be _too_ hazardous, but could you imagine me using pottery wheels or, jeez, a kiln? I'd be just like the wicked witch from 'Hansel and Gretel' who fell into the oven and was never heard from again."

"Oh, come on, you can't be _that_ bad," I laughed. "What about sculpture or printmaking? Those are pretty benign."

"Actually, anything that involves sharp instruments or big machines is inherently detrimental to my health."

"Well, then, I'll be sure to keep you away from those studios," I said quietly, looking into her eyes.

_What a lovely blush she has. It really highlights her smooth, peaches and cream skin. And those eyes – such a deep brown, almost chocolate. _

My gaze shifted to her lips.

_She's biting her bottom lip again. I'd rather she bit _my_ lip instead. Mmm. I bet we could have a lot of fun with that. _

I was interrupted from my daydream when a pair of ducks came by, one of them quacking loudly, looking for some bread crumbs. We both chuckled softly and the spell was broken. I took the opportunity to shift my position, as the front of my pants was getting uncomfortably tight.

"Sorry, Daffy," I said to the noisy duck. "No food here. Get lost."

"Daffy, huh?" asked Bella. "Why not Donald?"

"Oh, you can't be serious. Donald? The duck that no one can understand and pitches a hissy fit whenever he doesn't get his way? I don't think so." I vehemently shook my head. "Nope. Looney Tunes is where it's at. Bugs, Marvin the Martian, Wile E. Coyote. They rock!"

Bella cocked her head a bit and replied, "I don't know. Daffy Duck could throw one hell of a tantrum. He always annoyed me."

"True. But he's _supposed_ to be annoying. He's the foil to Bugs' good-natured mischief. And what would rabbit season be _without_ Daffy? Elmer Fudd can't shoot Bugs! That's downright un-American. Come _on_."

Bella snickered.

"What?" I asked, getting a little worked up.

"Look at you," she smirked, lifting her chin in my direction. "Getting all defensive over cartoons."

I just shrugged my shoulders and smiled.

"Alright, so I think we've established that you are _not_ an art major," I asked. "What _are_ you studying?"

"Comparative literature."

"And what does that mean, exactly?"

"Oh, you know, comparing literature." She was looking at her lap, trying hard not to crack a smile, until she peeked at me and we both burst out laughing.

"Okay," I said, still smiling. "Sounds fascinating."

"So what's _your_ major?"

"Wait a minute! I'm not done yet."

Bella's eyes widened but she said nothing.

"I'm just curious why you're carrying around those things?" I pointed to her portfolio and smirked. "Especially if you're such a danger to other art students?"

"Um, well, I _am _taking one art class. Just for fun."

"Yeah? Which one?"

"Figure drawing, but you already knew that," she said softly.

"Oh yeah, I guess I did." I smiled sheepishly and ran my hand through my hair.

Bella took a deep breath and then asked, "Well, I told you mine. Are you gonna tell me yours - major, I mean?"

"Nope," I smiled, popping the "p".

"Oh." She looked away, as if embarrassed or ashamed for asking.

"Hey, I'm sorry," I quickly apologized. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I was just teasing."

"That's alright. I understand," she whispered without looking at me.

"No, really. I said I wasn't going to _tell _you my major. I wanted to _show_ you."

That got her attention. She cocked her eyebrow at me and waited with her hands pressed together between her knees.

I quickly grabbed my sketchbook and pencil from my bag and turned back to her. Within moments I had a quick portrait sketch of her on the page, and I had even captured her biting that luscious bottom lip of hers.

When I turned the page around to show her, she gasped.

"Oh my god, that's amazing!"

"It's nothing, really. You can have it, if you want it." I tore the page out of my book and handed it to her.

"Wow, really?" She looked as if I had just given her a priceless drawing or something. "So I guess _you're_ the art major?"

"Guilty as charged," I said with a smile. "Technically, I'm a BFA candidate in Painting." I paused and grimaced. "That sounds so… snooty."

Bella giggled. "So that means what, exactly?"

"Oh, you know," I mimicked her earlier reply. "I paint."

"Uh-huh. Fascinating." Bella smiled widely.

"So," I said, running my hand through my hair, "wanna go inside and get a cup of coffee?"

"I don't know." Bella hedged, looking at her watch. "I wanted to get to class early today. My professor and I aren't exactly seeing eye to eye lately."

"That doesn't sound good. Who do you have, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Monsieur Caius. Third-level French."

I rubbed my forehead, thinking. "I never had him, but I have certainly heard of him. Is he as much of an arrogant hard-ass as they say?"

"Worse," she replied. "Which is why I want to be a good little doobie and not rock the boat further."

I understood her reasoning, but didn't want to let her go so easily. "What about lunch? Do you have any plans?"

"Not really," she said shyly, looking at her feet.

_My god, that blush is fucking adorable._

"Well, we could meet after our next class," I suggested, nervously running my hand through my hair again, "and head over to Sicily's for some pizza. I haven't been there in a while and I don't think I could stomach any mystery meat from dining services today." _God, Cullen, what's with the verbal diarrhea today?_

Bella was quiet for a moment, silently debating her choices.

_Did she not want to have lunch with me? Maybe I came on too strong. Did I misjudge her? I thought maybe she liked me, too. Aw, shit, now I've just ruined everything._

She turned her luminous brown eyes to look at mine. "Okay," she smiled.

I answered with a grin in spite of her lukewarm response.

Bella blushed again and looked down at her feet. She had a shy smile turning up the corners of her mouth, and then out of the blue gave a little snort and chuckle.

_Huh. I must have missed something._

She must have seen my confused expression because she mumbled a quiet, embarrassed apology. Standing up, she smoothed down her jeans and bent over to retrieve her bag.

"Thank you again for the drawing," she smiled as she turned to face me. "I still can't believe you were able to draw me so quickly."

"Really, it's not a big deal," I insisted. "But I'm glad you like it."

"Well, I should go," she hesitated.

Standing up, I handed Bella her masonite board and portfolio. "Have fun in French class. Try not to let him wear you down."

I smiled at her, and when she reached for her things, our hands grazed each other's. A physical shock passed between us, and I was immediately caught off guard. Our hands jerked away as if stung. The pit of my stomach became warm and tense, and my cock sprang to life, twitching in the confines of my jeans.

I had always thought that the "spark" between couples in those hokey romantic movies was just a ploy, a cliché, but now I think maybe I had actually experienced one. Did Bella sense it, too?

I thought of the tram car scene in the beginning of "Dr. Zhivago", when they brush past each other for the first time. Could Bella be my Lara?

I glanced down at Bella with new eyes, eager to see if she had the same reaction. Instead she mumbled another apology, and something about zapping me with static electricity.

"Bella," I murmured. "Stop apologizing."

Oh, this sweet, innocent girl had absolutely no clue as to the power she now held over me.


	4. Chapter 4: Moving Day

**a/n: again, i want to extend a huge thank you to the gals at www(dot)projectteambeta(dot)com. they are truly fabulous and just got a new website, so check them out!**

**Chapter 4: Moving Day**

**BellaPOV**

I yawned for the tenth time in as many minutes. I was exhausted, but I couldn't fall asleep; my mind simply would not shut off. The memories of the last few days swirled round and round in my head.

Edward smiling at me. Edward walking with me. Edward saying my name. Edward being, well, just Edward.

Simply thinking his name gave me delicious butterflies in the pit of my stomach. A smile twitched at the corners of my mouth. Who would ever have thought that such a dorky, old-fashioned name was really code for "Über-hottie"?

Where to begin? We had known each other for barely a week.

_Gosh, was that it?_

We were so comfortable with each other that it seemed like a much longer time.

When we went out to lunch on Wednesday afternoon, I was afraid that it would be really awkward. My conversation skills are not stellar, yet I pleasantly surprised myself. We chatted easily and I didn't trip, walk into any doors, or spill anything. That right there signaled a successful date for me.

_Wait a minute… did I just say _date_? Hmm. Yep, I guess I did. I could handle that! _

My smile grew bigger as I thought about dating Edward. Kissing. Cuddling. Getting sweaty…

_Oh, god, but what if he doesn't like me like _that_? Maybe he's just being really nice. I bet that's why things have gone so well. He just wants to be friends with me. Oh, man, now what do I do? I definitely like him as more than just as a friend, and now obviously I like him way more than he likes me._

I tried to squelch my rising panic. _Dammit, Bella, just relax. It's 2:30 in the morning. You can stress about it all day tomorrow. Just enjoy the fantasy right now. _

After taking several deep calming breaths, I started to feel better. _Go to sleep, girl! You have a super busy day tomorrow with the move and all. _

My eyes snapped open. _Shit! The move! What am I getting myself into? What's that phrase… out of the frying pan and into the fire. Yeah, that's definitely what it feels like. _

I rolled over and tried once again to relax, but Lauren's snores became louder. That decided it for me. I grabbed my bathrobe, a blanket and my laptop and headed for the dorm lounge. If I couldn't sleep anyways, I certainly didn't want to annoy myself further by listening to her snoring.

I curled up on one of the couches and surfed through my favorite blogs until my mind quieted down enough for me to feel sleepy. This time, once I closed my eyes, I went right to sleep.

---

"Bella, wake up, honey," called a soft voice.

"Mom? It's Saturday -- just a couple more hours," I mumbled.

I heard a giggle then. My mom doesn't giggle. _What the hell?_

"Bell-a," the sing-song voice repeated.

I opened my eyes a teeny bit and groaned. "Alice? What the fuck?"

Now that I was semi-awake, the black-haired sprite jumped onto the couch next to me and practically quivered with excitement.

"Oh, come on, you sleepy-head. Today's the big move. Let's get going! Here, I brought you some coffee. It's already 9 a.m. -- I let you sleep in! And why are you sleeping on this nasty old couch anyways?"

"_Alice," _I grumbled. "Shut. Up."

She giggled again. "You really are a Grumpy McGrumperson in the morning, aren't you?"

"Argh! Enough! Gimme the damn coffee already." I reached out and took a sip from the cup she offered me. _Oh man, that tastes good. _I closed my eyes and breathed in the vapors. Chocolate raspberry coffee was one of my little indulgences, and Alice knew that. I looked up at her from the rim of the cup and mumbled a quiet thank you.

"You're welcome, sweetie. I thought you could use a little treat so early in the morning. Now get up and get moving, hon! We've got a lot to do today."

Alice watched as I stretched and slowly got up off the couch. My neck had a kink in it, probably due to a weird sleeping position on that old couch. I twisted my neck around, trying to stretch the tendons. Hopefully it wouldn't cause me too many problems today.

I went back to my room with Alice literally skipping behind me. She sometimes reminded me of a little Chihuahua: tiny, full of energy, and constantly moving, even when standing still. I shook my head; didn't that girl ever need sleep?

We entered my room and I changed into some old jeans and a sweatshirt. Alice turned her nose up at my choice of clothing, but I couldn't care less. She could be the fashion plate. I had manual labor ahead of me today, and jeans and a sweatshirt were perfect. However, I did French-braid my hair into a long plait down my back, knowing that a simple ponytail would probably get messy and in my way later on.

Lauren was still sleeping, so we stayed somewhat quiet. We each picked up a bag of clothes I had packed the night before and brought it down to my truck.

Ahh, my truck. I freakin' loved that beast. Charlie had bought it for me back in high school, and it totally suited me. It was a faded red Chevy originally made in the Fifties, with bulbous fenders and lots of dents and rust. One of Charlie's buddies had replaced the engine, so it ran great. It was beautiful and nearly indestructible, definitely my kind of vehicle. I heard no end of shit about it from my friends, especially when it backfired or idled too loudly, but I didn't care. It was _my _beast, and I was fond of it.

Alice and I made several more trips down to the truck while we waited for Jasper to come by to help with the heavy stuff. By this time Lauren was awake, but went right into the shower and didn't pay us much attention. Like me, I think she was glad I was leaving and didn't want to get in the way of my departure. When the room was emptied of my stuff, Alice and I pulled ourselves into the truck's cab while Jasper jumped into the back, and we headed over to my new dorm.

The dorms in Butterfield Row were quiet, as it was still only ten o'clock on Saturday morning. Why Alice insisted on getting here so early was beyond me, but I kept my mouth shut. I was too happy to be leaving Lauren to really care what time it was. Of course, the caffeine in my system contributed greatly to my enhanced mood, so I even had a smile on my face when I drove up to Arnason Hall.

Butterfield Row was one of the oldest residential areas on campus, and as such the buildings were smaller and had lots of character. Like the other three dorms in the area, Arnason had four floors with a brick exterior and white decorative quoins on the outer corners of the building. The rooms on the top floor had dormered windows, and my inner child did a little happy dance at the thought of having a romantic window seat up there in my new room.

Each of us grabbed a bag from the back of my truck and followed Jasper into the building. We easily found room 407, as well as a note stuck to the door:

_Jasper, went to get coffee, door's open –R_

Jasper opened the door, then stood aside and ushered me into my new room. My breath caught as I looked around. I couldn't believe I was actually going to be living here.

The room was large, easily twice the size of my previous one, and was neatly partitioned into sleeping and living zones; two separate area rugs defined each space. The bed closest to the door acted as a sofa, with a motley assortment of pillows tossed along the back. The designated sleeping bed was tucked into the far corner and featured a drapery rod suspended from the ceiling, upon which hung a beautiful gauzy material for added privacy.

Looking around further, I noticed that not one, but two dormered windows enhanced the far wall. I was a little disappointed to see that custom-built desks were already in place in the dormers, until I remembered Alice's knack for decorating. I knew she would help me transform one of those desks into the perfectly cushioned reading alcove I craved.

The morning light streamed in through the windows and cast a warm glow upon the three of us. I turned to Alice and just grinned, speechless. I was in heaven.

"Welcome home, Bella," she smiled as she and Jasper embraced in an affectionate hug.

I put my bag of clothing down onto the sofa-bed, looked at my friends, and then cried out, "Last one down to the truck buys lunch!"

Alice, Jasper and I raced down the stairs, good-naturedly pushing each other out of the way. Alice and I made it back to the beast at the same time, and when we turned around we noticed that Jasper was strolling calmly toward us.

"Hey, Jazz, this was supposed to be a race," I taunted him.

"Now ladies," he smiled, "what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you buy me lunch on this fine, fine day?"

I snorted and rolled my eyes. Alice jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. "Oh, Jazz, you're so sweet!" she exclaimed.

Jasper and I decided to tackle the heavy stuff next, correctly assuming that trudging up four flights of stairs would get old quickly. I sighed. It would have been nice to have an elevator, but I was willing to forego that modern convenience if it meant that I could have such an awesome room.

We decided to take my dorm-size refrigerator next, which although was not heavy, was awkward and difficult to carry. Jasper hefted it in his strong arms and followed Alice, who held the doors open for us. I brought up the rear with a box of books.

On our next trip Jasper and I each grasped a handle of my black steamer trunk. "Good Lord, girl, what do you have in here?" he groaned as we started up the stairs.

"Uh, just some books, some art supplies, miscellaneous stuff," I replied breathlessly, trying to keep my grip.

"Miscellaneous stuff, huh?" Jasper wheezed. "Sure it's not a dead body or gold bullion?"

As we rounded the next flight, I heard an oddly familiar voice call out.

"Hey, Jazz, is that you? What the fuck are you doin', man?"

I looked up to see none other than Edward, standing in the hallway wearing only black flip-flops and a towel draped low around his hips, obviously on his way back from the showers. His normally tousled hair was damp but still haphazardly arranged, as if he had quickly towel-dried it and then left it alone.

If I thought he was gorgeous with his clothes on, he was absolutely stunning with them off. The cobalt blue towel was a sharp contrast to his pale skin, and I was mesmerized by the v-shaped abdominal muscles it tantalizingly exposed.

My eyes continued to roam, feasting on his defined six-pack abs and mouth-watering pecs. His torso could have been an alabaster carving for all of its perfection, and my gaze caressed each dip and swell of those muscles. A poet, perhaps, could have done it justice, but I was content to simply drool. He was muscular but not bulky like a body builder; I had never liked that look anyways. Instead he was sinewy, with a leonine grace and tawny hair lightly covering his chest.

I had admired his broad shoulders before, but to actually see the smooth muscles under his pale skin… mmm. I really wanted to touch the few freckles I saw there, and then see if those biceps really were as firm as they looked.

If it was possible for a person to spontaneously combust, I would have been incinerated instantly. This guy was almost too beautiful to look at, and I couldn't tear my eyes away. When I finally brought my gaze up to his face, I saw him looking back at me with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

_Oh shit, shit, shit, he caught me staring at him! Uh, think, Bella. No, first close your mouth. No one needs to see you gaping like a codfish._

My efforts to regain my composure evaporated when all hell broke loose. In my shock and drool-filled haze, I unthinkingly let go of the steamer trunk, causing Jasper, who was behind me, to lose his balance and almost fall down the stairs with it.

Alice quickly jumped out of the way, shrieking, "Incoming!"

As the trunk gained momentum, I watched in sickening horror as it collided with a tall blonde girl just coming up the stairs.

"What the fu--? AHHHHH! GOD _DAMMIT_! GET THIS FUCKING THING _OFF_ ME!" she shouted.

The trunk had only fallen down about seven stairs to the landing below, so luckily it was not going too fast. Still, it had enough weight and momentum to pin the girl's leg to the wall.

"AH, FUCK ME, I THINK MY FUCKING LEG IS BROKEN! SOMEBODY GET THIS FUCKING THING OFF ME RIGHT NOW, GOD DAMMIT!"

Jasper and I flew down the stairs and pulled my trunk off the girl. She lay there glaring at me for a second before she started up again. "Who the fuck are you? Is this thing yours? I'll have your ass for this, bitch."

At that moment, I didn't care if she hated me or not. "Are you okay? How's your leg?"

"How the fuck do you _think_ my leg is?" she cried. "It fucking _hurts_!"

Jasper then leaned over and said, "Uh, maybe this isn't the best timing, but Bella, I'd like you to meet Rosalie. Rose, this is Bella, your new roommate, or whatever you want to call her."

"You're fucking shitting me," she spat at him. "No god damn way. I don't want her anywhere near me."

Rosalie then looked me straight in the eye and sneered, "There's no way in hell this little freeloader is getting anywhere near my room. Get her the _fuck_ out of my sight!"

-----

**a/n: so, whaddaya y'all think of Rosalie? and where the hell was Edward when all of this was happening? (don't worry, you'll find out in the next chapter, which I have already started).**

**and I am not too proud to beg, so please ... REVIEW! **

**did you like it? hate it? what annoys you? what do you love? (_I love all opinions!!!)_**


	5. Chapter 5: A Rose By Any Other Name

**_Disclaimer:_ Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and the characters therein. No copyright infringement is intended. The intellectual property including, but not limited to, all characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to _mylittlebakersdozen_. No copying or reproduction of this work in any language is permitted without express written authorization of the author. Thank you!**

Chapter Notes:

**Sorry for the long wait** – your patience will be amply rewarded!

This story is rated M or NC-17 for a reason. If you are under age 18, please stop reading. And perhaps this is obvious, but this chapter is NSFW.

For those of you who hated how the last chapter ended, all I can say is: tough tooties. That's how the characters wanted it. Seriously, I wanted to keep writing, but Rose was in a lot of pain and kept yelling at me, Bella was shell-shocked, and Edward kept insisting that he be allowed to tell his side of the story. So I just threw my hands up and gave them all a Time-Out. Sheesh! Sometimes these damn kids just won't shut up!

I have to give some major credit to my two favorite betas in the whole wide world: Shelle87 and Idealistic4ever. You two girls (and Project Team Beta) rock my fuzzy socks off!

A big warm Thank You needs to go to my new validation beta over at Twilighted, Nowforruin, who was thrown into my little world and has been so wonderful to work with.

Thanks again to Readergoof for my amazing banner! Your artistry is bringing new readers my way every day. (Check out Twilighted or TWCS to see it!)

And major smooches have to go to you, my fabulous readers. I get giddy with excitement when I see that so many people have read my little brain doodle!

And so, without any further ado, let us now hear from Edward himself…

**Chapter Five: A Rose By Any Other Name …**

**EdwardPOV**

_She moaned and writhed beneath me; I held her hips down tightly on the bed to keep her from squirming away. I refused to let her up until she had at least one more orgasm with my tongue, and then another with my cock. My tongue licked and swirled around her clit. It wouldn't take long now. Her lips were so swollen that she cried out at the gentlest touch. I slowly slid two fingers into her hot pussy and was rewarded with another one of her violent orgasms. _

"_Edwaaaard!" she screamed. _

_As she started to come down from her high, I grabbed her legs and quickly flipped her over onto her belly. I pulled her up by the hips so her gorgeous ass was displayed for me, and then plunged my cock deep into her tight wet core._

_I grunted while thrusting hard into her. God, she felt so good - so warm and impossibly tight. _

"_Do you like that? Do you like it rough? Tell me." _

"_Oh God, yes! Don't stop!" she cried. "Harder! Please!"_

_Well, she did say please._

_I tightened my grasp on her hipbones to steady myself as my pace quickened. With each savage thrust came another of Bella's heavenly moans, fanning the flames of my already ignited lust. I wouldn't last much longer. _

"_Come for me, Bella. Now!"_

_Her walls clamped down hard around my cock as she cried out my name yet again. With just a few more thrusts I growled in ecstasy, pulsing deep inside her._

_I collapsed on top of her, enjoying the roundness of her ass and the floral smell of her hair. Once my breathing slowed down, I rolled off of her so we could face one another and caught her smiling. _

"_What?" I smirked at her. "Ready for Round Three already?" _

_She opened her sexy little mouth but no words came out. _

_She blinked and opened her mouth again. This time I could hear her, but instead of words all I heard was a strange ringing sound, which only stopped when she closed her mouth. That was weird - Twilight Zone weird – and Bella seemed so calm about it, as if this was normal behavior. What the fuck? _

_Twice more it happened, and each time her voice rang like a telephone. My image of her began to get blurry and the light behind her became brighter, almost as if she was glowing. _

Slowly I became aware of my surroundings, the sunlight bright behind my eyelids as I began to wake up. I recognized the narrow, uncomfortable dorm bed I was sprawled out upon and grumbled silently about waking up. I wanted to instead go back to that dream about Bella's sweet little body. Keeping my eyes closed, I rolled over and pulled the covers over my head to lessen the effect of the sunlight.

_Now where were we? Oh yeah, about to start round three…_

My reverie was interrupted by the loud ringing of my dorm phone.

_You've got to be kidding me. _

I glanced over at my roommate, still passed out from his drinking binge the night before. With a loud groan I pulled myself out of bed and grabbed the telephone.

"You would be well advised to have a damn good reason for disturbing me at this ungodly hour," I growled.

"Dude, good mornin' to you, too! I like the Dirty Harry impression. I've been trying to call you for the last half-hour. Your cell phone must be dead or something."

"Emmett, what the fuck? Did Rose finally leave you? 'Cause it better be something major for you to call me this early."

I scratched my chest and yawned. "And for your information, it's from _The Eiger Sanction_, not _Dirty Harry_, you moron."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Rosie and I are cool. You know she can't get enough of me!" my older brother boasted. "But she _is_ sort of why I'm calling. She left early, something about a new roommate at her dorm or something. So, you wanna go to the gym with me?"

"Emmett? Seriously? Go fuck yourself. I'm going back to sleep."

He started to sputter a reply but I just hung up on him, smiling. My brother could be a real douche-bag sometimes, but I supposed it could be worse. At least I didn't have to live under the same roof with him anymore.

He was a great guy, really funny, but his stupid sense of humor just never went away and I often wondered if he would ever grow up. We were both seniors now, since he had decided to join the "Five Year Club". I didn't think his extra year of schooling would add much to his education, except to enhance his alcohol tolerance. His sports management major wasn't exactly rocket science to me. I mean, how much education does one guy really need to coach a football team? Still, he had a good heart, and in spite of his annoying quirks, he would always be one of my best friends.

However, if he makes any more comments about my major being "artsy-fartsy underwater basket-weaving", I'm gonna have to do something drastic. He had been pretty good lately, ever since I gave him that bruised rib for calling my BFA candidacy a "Butt Fucking Apprenticeship." Unfortunately, Emmett didn't usually know where to draw the line until he had already stumbled past it.

I rubbed my face and stretched. There was no way in hell I would be able to go back to sleep now. Glancing at the clock, I muttered a few choice words - it wasn't even ten o'clock yet.

As I was up, thanks to Emmett, I figured I might as well shower and head to the studio early. I wanted to finish up some sketches of my exhibit ideas to show Professor Aro before I met with him on Monday.

I stretched out the last of the sleep in my limbs and looked once more over at Tyler, snoring with his mouth wide open. Man, I was so sick of having a roommate. I can't even jerk off in the privacy of my own room; I've got to save that for the showers.

My parents had decided early on to pay for the basics of our education: books, standard room and board, tuition and fees, but anything extra, like having a single room, we were to provide for ourselves. I had never really minded in the past, usually preferring to spend my extra funds on paints, brushes and other art supplies. Lately, though, I had been regretting that decision.

Ever since I met Bella, I'd get instantly hard whenever I thought about her. She was my own personal porn queen most nights, and without needing to look down, I knew I had the morning wood to prove it once again.

I stripped out of my T-shirt and flannel pants and tossed the boxer briefs in the hamper. After wrapping a towel around my waist, I realized I still had to rearrange myself, and tucked the little fella in to keep from popping a tent. Once I found my flip-flops under the bed and my shaving kit in the closet, I finally headed out of the room.

The halls were silent and deserted in typical Saturday morning fashion. A few stray pizza boxes, beer cans and a Bacardi bottle lay strewn about, but Tina, our maintenance lady, wouldn't have much work to do today. At least not on our floor. Downstairs, I wasn't so sure. The girls on the second floor seemed to be having quite the party last night. The loud thumping music and feminine shrieks had continued well into the early morning.

Our dorm was only partially segregated; instead of having co-ed floors like the newer dorms on campus, we had girls living on floors two and four, while the guys were on floors one and three. I guess having only one bathroom per floor necessitated the separation, and I couldn't say I really minded it all that much. At least I didn't have to worry about whacking off while a girl showered next to me.

My cock twitched at that thought and I had to readjust myself through the towel. I entered the bathroom and was relieved to see that all the shower stalls were empty. I hated jerking off when I knew another guy was showering in the stall next to mine, never mind a girl. Hell, he was probably spanking his monkey too, and that was a sure-fire way to kill the mood. Thank God there wasn't a common drain in these showers.

I took the towel off; I was still rock hard. The hot water ran down my back and I sighed in contentment, ready to take care of business. After a couple of strokes, I could feel the blood surge and indulged in my latest fantasy. I imagined the water dripping down her breasts, her nipples hard and dark pink. I took a step toward her, wanting to taste her skin. My nose tickled her ear. I licked her neck and nibbled that sensitive spot under her jaw.

Bella pressed herself into the corner, legs parted and knees bent. She arched her back and looked at me under hooded eyes, moaning as she began to masturbate. I pulled her to me, palming those firm buttocks, and gently bit her nipple so I could hear her softly cry out.

At that point I checked under the stall dividers one more time to make sure I was definitely alone. I braced my left hand on the wall, leaned forward and pictured Bella bent over doggy-style while I pounded into her.

_Damn, that was a quick one,_ I thought after splashing some water on the tiles to clean them off. _But it should last me for a few hours._

After quickly soaping up and rinsing, I dried off and toweled my hair for a minute, just barely bothering to run my fingers through to tame it. My hair had always had a mind of its own, and I was content to just let it be. I wrapped the towel around my waist, gathered up my stuff, and began retracing my steps to my room.

Nearing the stairwell, I heard some loud voices, one of which sounded like Jasper's, my RA. I didn't quite get the gist of it, but it sounded like something to do with – dead bodies and gold bullion. Nah, couldn't be, that made no sense, but it was definitely Jasper's voice.

I called out to him. "Hey, Jazz, is that you? What the fuck are you doin', man?"

I saw two people on the stairway landing, carrying a black steamer trunk between them. The girl in front had her back to me and seemed to be struggling with the weight of the trunk. I admired the long, pretty braid down her back, which reminded me of Bella.

When she turned around, I was momentarily stunned. It _was_ Bella. What was going on?

I was about to say something when I noticed her expression was the classic "deer caught in the headlights" look. Her eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape, and a beautiful little flush was forming on her cheeks.

Her gaze was intense as it traveled down my body; I suddenly remembered that I was wearing only a towel. Instead of feeling embarrassed, however, I took pride knowing that my body looked good and apparently was making a favorable impression on her. This morning notwithstanding, I often joined Emmett at the gym, and worked hard to get my body looking this way.

When her dark chocolate eyes finally made their way back up to mine, I couldn't help but smirk. She was so damn cute when she got flustered. My second attempt to talk with her was aborted when she let go of her handle of the trunk, causing instant chaos.

Jasper nearly fell down the stairs but luckily grabbed onto the handrail in time, maintaining his balance. I heard another girl's voice yell out, "Incoming!" as Bella, Jasper and I all ran toward the sickening sound of the trunk colliding with something. I was hoping it was only the wall until I heard a girl start screaming.

"AHHHHH! GOD _DAMMIT_! GET THIS FUCKING THING _OFF_ ME!"

Oh, fuck. This was _not_ good. I recognized Rosalie's voice at once. I had heard her yell at Emmett enough times to know that she was not someone you wanted to piss off.

"AH, FUCK ME, I THINK MY FUCKING LEG IS BROKEN! SOMEBODY GET THIS FUCKING THING OFF ME RIGHT NOW, GOD DAMMIT!"

I raced down the stairs after Jasper and Bella, not caring that I was barely dressed. They were able to move the trunk away from Rosalie, so I stood back and waited to help with whatever was needed next.

Rosalie glared at Bella. "Who the fuck are you? Is this thing yours? I'll have your ass for this, bitch."

I was ready to give Rosalie a tongue-lashing of her own for saying such a thing to Bella, but before I could, Bella asked her with genuine concern, "Are you okay? How's your leg?"

I felt so, _proud of her_, I guess, at that moment. She would have been totally justified in mouthing off back to Rose, but instead she was more concerned with the injured girl's welfare. Her kindness and compassion were admirable.

And then Rose had to spoil my benevolent attitude.

"How the fuck do you _think_ my leg is?" she cried. "It fucking _hurts_!"

Jasper then leaned over and said, "Uh, maybe this isn't the best timing, but Bella, I'd like you to meet Rosalie. Rose, this is Bella, your new roommate, or whatever you want to call her."

_What? Bella and Rose are _roommates_? When …? What …? Huh? _

I ran my hand through my hair, trying to wrap my mind around what I had just heard.

"You're fucking shitting me," Rosalie spat. "No God-damn way. I don't want her anywhere near me."

She then looked directly at Bella and sneered, "There's no way in hell this little freeloader is getting anywhere near my room. Get her the _fuck_ out of my sight!"

Bella looked stricken and Jasper didn't seem to know what to do. I jumped into the fray, issuing commands like a sergeant major.

"Jasper, call Emmett. Have him come over here ASAP." I looked around. Bella was sitting on the floor, pale and silent. Her friend with the short spiky hair was fidgeting nervously nearby.

"You," I pointed at her.

"Alice," she said.

"Alice, take care of Bella. She looks a little faint."

I knelt down by Rosalie and asked to see her leg. Luckily, I did not see any obviously broken bones, but a nasty bruise was quickly forming around her ankle.

"Rose, we need to take you to the Health Center. Do you want to wait for an ambulance, or do you want us to take you there ourselves?"

"I don't want a fucking ambulance. Just help me into a car and let's get out of here already."

I glanced up at Jasper, who was on his cell phone with Emmett. He nodded at me and told my brother where to meet us. Jasper and I helped Rose stand up, with her arms around both of us for support. Together the three of us hobbled outside to my car, which happened to be parked on the street close by. Once she was settled into the passenger seat, I began to walk around to the driver's side door.

Jasper coughed. "Uh, Edward? Don't you want to put some clothes on first?" he laughed.

Looking down, I started laughing at myself. I had totally forgotten I was only wearing a towel. Now that Jasper had reminded me, though, I could feel the chilly October air on my damp skin and shivered. Tossing him my keys, I told him to take Rose and meet Emmett at the Health Center. Jasper got in the car and they soon sped off.

I turned around and headed back inside, glad for the warmth. Bella and her friend were no longer in the stairwell when I got up there, so I assumed they were upstairs in Rosalie's room. I walked down the hall to my room and remembered that my room key was on my key chain, with Jasper.

"Tyler!" I pounded on the door. "Wake up, you asshole, and let me in."

**BellaPOV**

I sat hunched over on the bed in my new room, my face in my hands.

_What the hell just happened out there? How badly is she hurt? Fuck me, this is a nightmare._

Alice sat on the bed next to me, quietly rubbing my back. What was I going to do when they returned? This was not the way I had imagined today going at all.

"Oh, Alice," I sighed dejectedly.

"It'll all be okay, hon," she assured me softly. "Rosalie is in good hands. And I'm sure she didn't mean it about you not staying here. She was just in a lot of pain."

I winced.

"Sorry, Bells, you know I didn't mean to rub it in."

"Yeah, I know." I rubbed my face and looked at her. "But what should we do? I mean, should I bring the rest of my stuff up here, or leave it in the truck? Should I get my new RA involved?" _Ugh, that's the last thing I want to do,_ I shuddered.

"How about I go see if Tanya is around, and you start bringing up the _lightweight _stuff," she smirked at me.

I maturely gave her the hairy eyeball and harrumphed. But I agreed, as that would at least keep me busy until everyone returned. Luckily I didn't have too many things left, but I was not looking forward to all the extra stair climbing I would have to do.

_Shut up, Bella, _I thought to myself. _You're lucky you're not the one with a possibly broken ankle. Stop bitching and just do your penance. Rosalie is gonna have a hard enough time going up _any_ stairs for the foreseeable future, and that's all _your_ fault._

Alice and I parted ways in the hallway, each of us intent on our own task.

The dreaded steamer trunk remained on the landing between the second and third floors, luckily still secured. What the fuck was I thinking, putting so much crap in there? There was no way I'd be able to hoist it up the last flight of stairs by myself, so my only option was to open it up and carry out a little bit at a time.

I had emptied one of my boxes of books just for this task, so I set it next to me while I popped the lock on the trunk. Looking in, I sighed with remorse. In my haste to move, I had haphazardly threw in any and all loose little items that were scattered around my dorm room: photos, knick-knacks, the contents of my desk drawer, my toaster oven, bottles of lotion, candles and candleholders, cds, a flashlight, and basically anything that wasn't nailed down. Oh, and of course fifteen of my favorite books. Hardcover, naturally.

I stuffed as much as I could into that first box, knowing I would be back for repeat trips. As I closed the trunk's lid and relocked it, I heard someone coming down the stairs.

"Bella? I wasn't sure if you'd still be here. Are you okay?"

_Of course it would have to be him. Mr. Velvet-Voiced Perfection is going to see, yet again, how Bella Swan expertly makes an ass of herself._

I closed my eyes and swallowed thickly. In all of the chaos of Rosalie's injury, I had forgotten that he was the reason why I had lost my grip on the damn trunk.

_Please be clothed this time. Or not. A nearly naked Edward would always be nice to look at. _

The heat from my resulting blush warmed my entire head and neck, and I knew I couldn't hide. Better to face the music sooner rather than later, I guess.

Still kneeling on the floor, I slowly opened my eyes. First, I saw his bare feet – neatly trimmed nails and little tufts of bronze hair on his toes – and was amazed that _feet,_ of all things, could be sexy. But I guess, if it belonged to Edward, _any_ body part would be sexy.

He wore ripped, faded jeans and a grey t-shirt, and looked absolutely delicious in a rumpled sort of way. He'd probably want to keep his distance from me now, though, and I couldn't blame him.

I forced myself to look up into his concerned green eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said softly. "Just embarrassed, furious with myself, guilt-ridden over Rosalie, mortified by everything that just happened, and basically I'd like to just curl up in a hole and die."

Edward chuckled at my little rant. "I guess you weren't kidding when you said you were clumsy."

I scowled at him.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he said gently. "I just couldn't help teasing you a little bit. Can I help?"

I tried to brush off his helpfulness, but he wasn't hearing any of it. Edward picked up the box I had filled and followed me to my new room to retrieve another one. There was no way I was going to attempt to carry that monstrosity of a trunk upstairs until it was considerably lighter in weight, so I really was grateful for his assistance. Eventually the trunk was light enough to easily move, and Edward and I hauled it into the room.

"So, Bella," he began as he made himself comfortable on the sofa-bed. "What's going on? I don't mean to pry, but I just saw you the other day and you never mentioned anything about moving in with Rosalie, of all people."

He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. "You're not stalking me, are you?" he teased.

I blushed and giggled. "No, it's nothing like that. I only just found out about the move myself."

He quirked an eyebrow at me.

"It's kinda complicated," I replied with a shrug.

Edward smiled. "I think I can keep up."

I sat back onto my heels and gave a little sigh before I launched into my story. "Well, I really needed to get away from my roommate, and my RA, Alice, is dating Jasper, the RA here, who knew of a girl looking for a roommate here in this dorm. That girl was Rosalie, who probably wants to kill me right now and is regretting ever agreeing to this screwed-up arrangement." I had to stop and catch my breath.

"Wait a minute," he said. "You didn't know Rosalie when you arranged all of this?"

Shaking my head no, I watched as he let out a low whistle and ran his long fingers through that beautifully tousled, still-damp hair of his.

"Ooh," was all he said, with the most adorable pucker.

"Ooh, what?" I demanded. "What do you know that you aren't telling me?"

Edward had the grace to look slightly chagrined. "No, no, it's nothing bad, really. It's just that Rosalie can be, um, _difficult_ at times," he said while tugging at his hair.

I cocked my eyebrow at him to urge him to explain further.

"She's just strong-willed and opinionated," he shrugged, "and that intimidates a lot of people."

"Does that mean that _you're_ intimidated by her?"

"Nah," Edward grinned wickedly at me. "I happen to _like_ strong women."

My skin broke out in goosebumps. For the briefest instant, an image scalded itself onto my brain: Edward and I, wrestling furiously, and I end up victorious, straddling him, pinning his arms above his head… I coughed nervously to try to hide my blush.

We were fortunately interrupted by Alice's ever-cheerful voice echoing in the hallway.

"Like I said, I am _so_ glad that you were available to meet Bella right now. She really is such a sweetheart. And she feels just _horrible_ about what happened with Rosalie. I'm sure you can put her mind at ease."

I looked at the doorway with dread, just waiting to get the introduction over with. Alice bounced into the room gaily, followed by a tall, long-legged beauty with strawberry-blond hair cascading in waves down her back.

_Great. Do all the girls in this dorm have to be beautiful to live here? 'Cause that right there would be reason enough for them to kick me out._

Alice walked over to me. "Bells, I want you to meet Tanya, your new RA. Tanya, this is Bella, one of my best friends."

We smiled cordially at each other and shook hands, but I could tell she was never going to become a confidant of mine. She seemed to have a veneer of ice around her, and quickly became business-like.

"Well, this certainly was not an auspicious way to start off," she said as she looked me up and down. "But Rosalie and I have had numerous discussions about this arrangement, and I don't think she would really ditch her plans right now, even after what just happened."

She paused and inspected her perfectly manicured fingernails, prolonging my anxiety. "Yes, you can stay here. I'll talk with Rose when she gets back."

Tanya glanced around the room and looked a bit startled when she saw Edward sitting on the sofa-bed.

"Oh! Edward. I didn't see you there. I didn't know you knew Bella," she exclaimed in mock surprise to cover her jealousy. She failed miserably.

"Mm-hmm," he nodded slowly.

_That was interesting. I wonder what kind of history they have. Yet another thing to feel inadequate about, I'm sure._

Alice's eyes bugged out and she mouthed silently to me, "_The _Edward?"

I rolled my eyes and nodded. She grinned like a fool and started bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Okay, kids," Tanya said breezily. "I'm outta here. Just let me know when Rose gets back."

She turned around and left, obviously not in the mood to deal with underclassmen. Alice looked back and forth between me and Edward before smiling broadly.

"I have to go find the little girls' room. Be back in a bit!" She pirouetted on her toe and skipped out, winking at me.

I shook my head and sighed.

_Oh, Alice, really!_

Edward was looking at me, apparently quite entertained. "Your friend, Alice - she seems to have a lot of energy."

Snorting, I replied, "You have no idea."

An awkward silence developed as we each sat there.

"Hey, you wanna …" he began.

"I had no idea you …" I stammered.

We grinned at each other.

"You go first," I said.

"Nuh-uh, ladies first. I insist." Edward then gave me that devastating crooked smile of his, and I was putty in his hands.

"Well," I said, twisting my fingers in my lap. "I had no idea you lived here. Really. I'm sorry if that makes things awkward for you. That was never my intention. But I am really glad you were there to help out with Rosalie. I don't know what I would have done if you weren't there. So, thank you."

"You're welcome. Now forget about it, because I can't say that I really mind all that much that we practically live right next to each other."

He snickered at my startled response. "I'm not a stalker either, Bella. But having you so close by will definitely make it easier to get to know you better."

I could feel my blush explode down my face and probably color my toes. This gorgeous guy would be the death of me.

"Oh, Rose, you're doing great! You're really getting the hang of it!" Alice's voice danced through the air a short while later, causing the butterflies in my stomach to go into overdrive.

"Shut up, you overgrown Tinker Bell. I'm still in a bad mood and your perkiness is not helping matters any."

"Aw, Rosie, cut her some slack," I heard a male voice say. "You really are doing great - but why won't you let me carry you?"

"Because I can do this on my own, you big ape. I'm not some damsel in distress who needs to be carried everywhere."

"Ooh, you know I love it when you get feisty!" he replied.

The voices were getting closer.

_Shit, shit, shit. _

I frantically looked around the room.

Edward chuckled, "There's no place to hide in here."

I shot him an evil look, and then braced myself for Rosalie's entrance.

She hobbled through the doorway on crutches, with a stark white cast on her lower leg and foot. Her perfectly pedicured red toenails peeked out at the bottom.

"I still can't believe they actually tried to convince me to get a _colored_ cast," she sneered. "I'm sorry, but this is _not_ some kind of fashion statement I want to emphasize."

"I know, right?" piped up Alice. "And why would you want to wear the same color every day anyways? It would be an accessorizing nightmare!"

Rosalie looked at her with a little more respect, while I just shook my head_. _

_Who cared what color the cast was? Well, obviously, they did. Duh._

Edward moved off of the sofa-bed so Rosalie could sit down. Actually, she lounged. For someone who must be in terrible pain and discomfort, she looked so… graceful.

She caught me staring at her. "So, Bella."

"Hey," I gulped.

"Alice and Jazz over here have been singing your praises to me ad nauseum," she frowned at them before she continued. "So I've agreed to try to look past this little incident. For now. This new living arrangement means a lot to me, and I would hate for it to … end badly."

Rosalie then cocked her head and looked at me more closely. "Hey, you look familiar. Where do I know you from?"

Right then it hit me.

_Oh, fuck my life._

Rosalie was the Glamazon model from my art class.

End notes:

Uh-oh. Bella is in deep shit now. Or is she?

Tell me what you think! (And how did you like EPOV, Emmett, Tanya?)

Thanks for reading! I know I took a super-long time to update, and I appreciate that you stuck it out. Chapter 6 is written and just needs to be beta'd, so the wait shouldn't be too terribly long!

I also have a confession to make. *looks around and beckons you closer* I am no longer a lemon virgin! This was my first attempt at writing a lemon, and it was a bit odd at first because it was from a guy's perspective. THANK YOU, dear hubby, for critiquing and giving me good advice (I got 2 pages of notes – "a guy would never say this, use this word instead, how about this…")!

I think I need to go and reward hubby now.

****Thanks for reading, and please review!****

(This fic is posted on FFnet, Twilighted and The Writers Coffee Shop)


	6. Chapter 6: Sparky Strikes Again

**Chapter notes:**

**You readers are fantastic – truly! Thank you for putting up with me and these darn kids. Your reviews are like a sweet drink of water on a hot day. Gulped by Rob. With the condensation pooling and dripping down his chin. Then he takes his hand… aaaahhhhhh! (See what you do to me?)**

**I continue to have the best betas in the Twi-fic universe: Idealistic4ever and Shelle87. Thank you, ladies! I know that Project Team Beta would not be nearly as good without your mad skills, and my own writing just keeps getting gooder, too! ;-)**

**Thank you also to my Twilighted v-beta: nowforruin. You are quick, smart and funny. Too bad I'm already married. And straight. Just sayin'…**

**And Readergoof has my eternal thanks for creating such a great banner. I still love looking at it! This little story has had many more hits since you graced me with your artistry, so I thank you again! **

**_Disclaimer:_ Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and the characters therein. No copyright infringement is intended. The intellectual property including, but not limited to, all characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to _mylittlebakersdozen_. No copying or reproduction of this work in any language is permitted without express written authorization of the author. Thank you!**

**Chapter 6: Sparky Strikes Again**

**BellaPOV**

Rosalie cocked her head and looked at me closely. "Hey, you look familiar. Where do I know you from?"

Right then it hit me.

_Oh, fuck my life._

Rosalie was the Glamazon model from my art class.

She waited for my answer. How in the world should I respond?

_Well, Rosalie, I've seen you naked. Several times, in fact. I guess I didn't make quite the same impression on you as you did on me._

I snorted gently, which caused her to quirk her eyebrow up at me.

"Sorry," I blushed. "It's just that you're one of the models in my figure drawing class."

She was quiet for a moment, brows furrowed, observing me. "Garrett's morning class?"

I nodded.

"I thought so. I never forget a face."

"Hey, Rosie, so what are you going to do now? Can you keep modeling?" I looked over at the big guy who spoke, wondering who he was.

"I dunno, Emmett. Jesus. This all happened rather suddenly, you know." Rosalie looked tired and pissed off. She stretched out and yawned slightly. "The meds are finally starting to kick in, I think."

Edward looked at me and said, "Hey, why don't we leave Rose to rest for awhile? We can all hang out in the lounge and figure things out."

I nodded and got up, following Alice, Jasper and Edward out of the room, while the big guy stayed behind with Rosalie. We walked quietly down the stairs to the first floor, where the lounge was. Several dirty loveseats were haphazardly arranged around the soot-stained hearth of the massive fireplace, and we soon moved two of them close to each other to allow for easier conversation.

Alice and Jasper quickly occupied one of them, her little feet resting in his lap, silently begging him for a foot massage. Rolling his eyes with a smile, Jasper obliged.

That left one loveseat for me to share with Edward. I sat down in the corner, not sure where to put my hands. In my lap? No, too prim. Behind my head? Nope, pushes out my boobs too much. Back of the couch? Whoops – Edward's hands were already there, and I was startled by the unexpected contact. I felt that zap of static electricity again, and vaguely thought about using more fabric softener in my next load of laundry.

"Sorry about that," I mumbled. "I always seem to be zapping you."

He chuckled softly next to me. "Maybe I should call you Sparky."

Alice raised her eyebrows and smirked at me. My eyes widened in panic.

_Not now, Alice, please!_

I prayed that she wouldn't embarrass me about that now, in front of everybody. I silently begged her to keep quiet, hoping that she recognized the minute, yet frantic, shaking of my head. Luckily, she wasn't able to grill me, as we were interrupted by that big guy from Rosalie's room.

"Well, well, ladies and germs!" he boomed while rubbing his hands together. "So what kind of trouble can we get ourselves into today?"

I cringed, knowing that my luck had finally run out. I had hoped that no one would comment on the eight-hundred pound gorilla in the room, Rosalie's accident, but deep down I knew that wish to be mere fantasy.

Edward sighed and ran his long fingers through his bronze hair. "Emmett, I think we've all had enough excitement for today, don't you think? How's Rose doing, anyways?"

"Oh, she's fine. The Percocet finally kicked in, so she's sleeping now. I'm glad I'm not gonna be around when it wears off, though!"

He saw me sitting next to Edward and came over, hand outstretched.

"Hi there. I'm Emmett, Rosalie's boyfriend. You must be Bella."

_Why is he being so nice to me? If he knows my name, then surely he knows that I'm the one who caused Rosalie's accident. Why isn't he upset with me?_

I timidly reached out to accept his handshake. Technically, I shook his hand, but because my little hand was entirely engulfed by his, it looked more like I was trying on a baseball glove.

"Hi," I replied meekly.

_What else could I say? Gee, I'm so sorry I busted up your gorgeous girlfriend. Yeah, that would go over like a lead balloon._

"So how do you know my baby brother?" he asked, inclining his head toward Edward.

My eyes widened in surprise as I looked over at my couch companion. Brothers? No way. They didn't look anything alike. Edward was lanky and graceful with a certain rumpled charm, not to mention devastatingly handsome. He'd be a natural choice to model Calvin Klein underwear.

Emmett was also good-looking, but in a rugged, All-American football sort of way. His hair was dark brown, almost black, and cut just long enough to reveal some curl to it. His best features, though, had to be his eyes, alight with mischief, and his dimples, ever-present with his grin.

The big guy laughed heartily. "He never told you? I'm not surprised. He doesn't like competition," he boasted, flexing his biceps.

Edward snorted and laughed. "Speak for yourself, Em." He then looked over at me and, leaning close, said conspiratorially, "Emmett may have gotten the brawn, that's true, but I definitely got the brains." He wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis, causing me to laugh out loud.

"Oh, yeah? I'll show you some brains," Emmett grinned as he attempted to give Edward a noogie on the head. I yelped as the two brothers started wrestling, and quickly jumped onto the back of the couch to get away from them. Unfortunately, I overestimated the height and lost my balance, landing inelegantly on my ass behind the couch.

Alice leaped up and cried, "Bella! Are you okay?"

Edward's head snapped to attention, and he looked around in bewilderment. "Bella?"

Taking advantage of Edward's distraction, Emmett was able to get him in a half-nelson, capped by a wicked noogie.

"Damn it, Emmett, get off me! Enough!" Edward tried in vain to get away, but his brother's grasp was too strong.

"Not till you say uncle, little brother."

"Kiss my ass, Em. What happened to Bella? Where is she?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

By this time I had gotten up and was standing behind the couch, watching the two brothers fight for dominance.

"Ahem," I coughed, placing my hands on my hips. The Cullen boys turned as one to look at me, with Edward's head still ensnared by Emmett's arm. Emmett seemed a little confused; Edward looked relieved to see that I was okay.

"If you boys are done, I think I'd like to sit back down again," I said with a little smirk. I caught Edward's eye and he grinned at me before shoving his older brother away from him.

"C'mon, you two," Jasper drawled. "You heard the lady. I must say, your lack of manners is rather appalling," he scolded. He glanced at me and winked, earning himself a warm smile.

Both Edward and Emmett moved aside, allowing me access to the couch. After I sat down again, Emmett broke the small silence with a typically tactless question.

"So what were you doing behind the couch, Bella?"

I rolled my eyes at him and was about to retort, but Alice beat me to it.

"She had to jump out of the way, you moron, and fell ass over elbow off the back." Alice was endearingly indignant about the situation, while I just chalked it up to my dearth of grace and promptly wanted to forget about it.

"Gee, thanks, Alice," I said, frowning at her. "Next time, could you be a little more graphic?"

She just shrugged and snuggled back into Jasper's side. The Cullen boys, however, burst out laughing.

"You didn't?" sputtered Emmett.

"My God, you really _are_ clumsy!" laughed Edward.

I glared at him long enough to wipe that smile off his face. I was not happy. What started out as playful banter had somehow turned into something that felt like "Pick on Bella Day." I knew I was probably overreacting, but since my stress levels after Rosalie's accident had not lowered enough for me to keep playing along, my quick temper was getting the better of me.

I looked at Alice and Jasper. "Thank you, both of you, for helping me today. The move, Rosalie, everything. I really do appreciate it."

Alice stood up so I could give her a hug, and Jasper smiled. "Anytime, darlin'," he nodded.

I broke away from Alice's embrace and gave her a small smile. "Right now, I really need some time alone."

Ignoring Edward and Emmett, I stood up and walked stiffly out of the dorm. Once outside, I was aimless and unsure where to go. I decided to hang out by the pond, as that spot had always relaxed me in the past. What I really needed to do was just calm down and put things back into perspective.

By the time I got to the pond, I had calmed down to the point where I actually wondered why Edward hadn't come out to stop me.

_Wait a minute. Did I really just think that? _

I shook my head. I had never pegged myself as one of those manipulative women who expected men to come running after them. So then why was I acting like one? I stood still for a moment, trying to figure out what I was doing.

_Okay. Why am I upset? Because Edward insulted me._

I rolled my eyes. Could I get any more pathetic? It wasn't an insult so much as a statement of fact. Yes, I _was_ clumsy. Very clumsy. I shouldn't be so sensitive about it. I should embrace it. At least it will always be a good conversation starter.

Good God, I really was pathetic. I must be a world-class dimwit if I needed to give myself a pep talk about my own klutziness.

I was still wound up pretty tight, so I kept analyzing my behavior. I wanted to get at the root of my problem so I could then get rid of it.

_Alright, so what else is bugging me? _

I rubbed my forehead. _Rosalie_. God, I feel so bad about that. How in the world am I going to make it up to her? If only I hadn't lost my grip on that damn trunk, but how was I to know that Edward was going to be there, half naked?

I sat up a little straighter. _Edward_. He was the problem. All the bad stuff lately had been a result of my interactions with _Edward_.

_He_ was the reason why I bruised my forehead on that door. _He_ was the reason why I was chewed out in French class. _He_ was the reason why I dropped the trunk and hurt my new roommate. _He_ was the reason why I fell off the damn couch. _He_ was the reason why I was now out here on a chilly October morning stewing over everything.

"ARGH!" I cried, vigorously shaking myself, as if to fling those bad vibes off of me.

"Uh, Bella?" mumbled a soft voice behind me.

I spun around, shrieking with fright. Standing at the edge of the path with his hand tugging his hair, was Edward, the bane of my existence lately.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Edward, what are you doing here?" I asked, exasperated, still laboring to slow my breathing. I hated to be snuck up on.

He hesitated, still pulling his hair. "I brought a peace offering?" he asked, as if expecting me to yell at him again. He held up his hand, showing me a white bakery bag. He nervously shifted his feet and couldn't meet my eyes.

I sighed. How could I stay mad at him? He was so damned cute. And if I was honest with myself, I would admit that it was my reaction to his presence which had caused all of my problems. It wasn't him at all. It was me.

"Peace offering, huh? What is it?"

"Chocolate croissants," he mumbled.

"Well, how do you know I even like chocolate croissants?" I asked softly. "Maybe I have a wheat allergy or something." I know I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help but give him a hard time. Like I said, I hated to be snuck up on.

"Uh, uh… but Alice said …," Edward stammered, totally at a loss for words.

"It's okay, Edward," I said, giving him a small smile to end his suffering. "Chocolate croissants are actually my favorite."

His relief was so palpable that I chuckled. "C'mon, sit down," I said while moving over on the bench to make room for him. "Now I just wish I had some coffee."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't think… uh, I just…," he looked panicked again.

"Relax, Edward. This is fine."

He cautiously sat down next to me and opened up the bag, handing me one of the croissants.

I waited until he had his croissant in hand before I took a bite of my own. Savoring the sweet, flaky pastry, I realized that I hadn't had one of these in a long time.

"Thank you, Edward," I said softly, as I finally looked him in the eyes.

"You're welcome," he replied with a quiet smile. Running his hand through his hair again, he added, "I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to make you feel bad."

"I know," I said quietly, looking down at my feet. "I just overreacted. I'm still mad at myself for what happened to Rosalie."

"I'm sure she'll be fine. Although, she may not be able to move in with Emmett right away."

I cocked my head at him, hoping he'd explain further.

"I don't know for sure," he said quickly. "After you left, I ran off to the campus center to get the croissants, so I didn't stay to chat. But with a cast on her leg, she can't drive, and Emmett's apartment is in the next town over and not on the bus line."

Edward paused and added quietly, "Not that she'd ever take public transit, but still."

He shifted in his seat and took another bite of croissant before continuing. "I know for a fact that their schedules don't sync, which is why she was moving in with him in the first place. They wanted to see more of each other. So I just figured that she'd stay in her dorm until she could drive again."

"She must really hate me. What a way to start this off," I grumbled, pulling my legs up and wrapping my arms around them.

Edward very gently started rubbing small circles on my back. "Hey there, buck up, Sparky. It was an accident, and everyone knows that." His voice was soft and velvety.

_Sparky_. Yep, that zap was there again. Only this time it didn't go away like static normally did. Instead, it seemed to spread right to my stomach, causing a stampede of butterflies. I was hyperaware of Edward's proximity to me, and the air between us seemed to quiver with excitement.

Turning my head to look at him, my breath caught. He was only a few inches away from me, his emerald green eyes radiating warmth and compassion. My heart started to race.

_Was he going to kiss me? Oh. My. God. _

Edward smiled. That devastating, crooked smile that turned me into a puddle of goo.

"Can I ask you something?" he murmured.

Afraid I was going to squeak like a drunken mouse, I merely nodded.

"Would you let me draw you again?"

**End notes:**

***peeks out from behind the sofa* Don't hurt me, please! I know that cliffie was kinda mean, but now I really want to write chapter 7! And that's a good thing, right?**

**Ooh, adorkable Suaveward saves the day! What will our dear Bella do? **

**Quick, send me a note! **

**p.s. Have I mentioned before that I LOVE my readers? Yup, it's true!**

**p.p.s. (For FFnet and TWCS only) By the way, I decided to make a teensy change to the ending of chapter 3 (Beethoven and Daffy Duck). Instead of switching to BPOV at the very end, where Bella gets all giddy when Edward asks her out to lunch, I kept it as EPOV and included a reference to Dr. Zhivago. It is not essential that you read it, but in case you might be interested I wanted to let you know. I think it flows better now. Thank you to my former v-beta at Twilighted, Twilightzoner, for helping me with that.**

**(This fic is posted on FFnet, Twilighted and The Writers Coffee Shop)**


	7. Chapter 7: Proposals Redux

Chapter notes:

I'm a slacker. Yes, I admit it. A lazy, procrastinating, writer's-blocked slacker.

I'm frankly amazed that you are still here reading this.

I'm **_so sorry_** about the wait!

Super-long author's note (with fic rec's) at the end…

**Now let's get to it, shall we?**

**_Disclaimer:_ Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and the characters therein. No copyright infringement is intended. The intellectual property including, but not limited to, all characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to _mylittlebakersdozen_. No copying or reproduction of this work in any language is permitted without express written authorization of the author. Thank you!**

Chapter 7: Proposals Redux

**BellaPOV**

My mind went blank - totally, completely barren of thought. Edward was looking at me expectantly, so I knew I had to do or say _something_. What had he just asked me? I couldn't for the life of me remember.

"Um, what did you say?" I whispered with embarrassment.

His penetrating green eyes sparkled with mirth. "I said, would you let me draw you again?"

"Why would you want to do _that_?" I asked bluntly, before realizing how rude it sounded.

Edward's gaze softened and he lifted his hand, gently tucking a wayward strand of hair back behind my ear.

The moment his skin touched mine, I broke out in goosebumps. My skin felt like it had burst into flame. How could such an innocent gesture ignite such a feeling? It didn't make any sense to me. I did know that I wanted him to touch me again, and I was shocked to discover that I was willing to do nearly anything to make that happen.

"The more appropriate question should be, why _wouldn't_ I want to?" he smiled, his voice low and velvety.

If my brain had been working properly, I probably could have given him a laundry list of reasons why I would be a horrible subject to draw. I was shy, awkward, self-conscious, and oh, yeah – I didn't like people to look at me, let alone stare at me.

Unfortunately my body betrayed my snarky mind and all I could do was blush like crazy.

"Besides," he whispered, "I can't seem to get you out of my head. I thought I might as well get you on paper, too." His knuckles caressed my cheek, sending feather-light yet searing jolts of electricity through me.

I closed my eyes, scarcely able to believe that this was really happening.

My breathing sped up when I felt him move closer to me, and then his warm breath fanned against my ear.

"Please, Bella?"

_What am I doing here? I know I agreed to check this out, but that was my hormones talking, not me. Edward's gotta have some serious witchy voodoo powers over me or something. _

I continued to marvel at my unfamiliar behavior as I took in the room around me.

The studio was messy, with multi-colored dried paint splatters adorning the concrete floor, and squished tubes of paint overflowing a caddy perched atop a makeshift table. Different-sized canvases, some blank, others works in progress, were stacked against one wall. The armchair in the corner was old and ratty, its original forest green color faded and soiled into a dull olive. A shelf on the far wall held an ancient-looking boombox and a motley assortment of CDs.

The smell of solvent, and something else I couldn't identify, permeated the small space. At a little over twelve feet wide, the studio was no bigger than my original dorm room had been. However, because of the skylight, as well as the large window overlooking the campus pond, this room was filled with light. My previous dorm room was never this bright even with all the electric lights turned on.

As I slowly turned around, I noticed that Edward had stayed in the doorway, hands jammed into his front pockets.

"Uh, yeah, so this is my studio," he mumbled.

"It's… nice," I said, unsure how else to describe it.

Edward chuckled. "Yeah, I know it doesn't look like much, but it's rare on campus to have your own private studio. I can come here at all hours and not have to worry about anyone bothering me."

He made his way over to the stereo and turned it on. Blaringly loud music screamed forth, causing us both to jump.

"Sorry about that," he said after he quickly lowered the volume.

We looked at each other and grinned – and suddenly it seemed as if the tension in the air had decreased along with the music level.

I walked over to the center of the room where a large easel was set up. "Aren't you working on anything right now?" I asked, curious to find it lacking a canvas.

"Yeah, but I'm still in the sketching phase." He tugged his hair with his long fingers. In the short time I had known Edward, I had already learned that that was a nervous habit. I wondered what he was thinking about.

"Can you tell me about it?" I asked.

He looked a little embarrassed, and I realized he probably didn't like to share his thought process when it came to his art. I was the same way with my writing – I preferred to keep things close to my chest until I was finished, or nearly so.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," I quickly added.

"No, no, that's not it." He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets again and looked at his feet. "It's uh, it's just that…"

_Uh-oh, this must be really bad. I wonder if he's painting something really offensive or pornographic._

He raised his head, took a deep breath and gazed steadily into my eyes.

"I'd really like to feature _you_ in my work."

_What the …? _

That was _so_ not what I was expecting to hear him say. Was he out of his mind?I thought maybe he wanted to draw me just once, for fun, not multiple times and with his grade dependent on it.

_Wait a minute. Oh, my God. Did that mean he wanted me to actually _model_ for him? _

I gulped and looked up at him, panic-stricken. "Uh… uh, I don't know about that," I stammered.

"Can I ask why not?" Edward asked softly, as if trying to coax a timid kitten to come forward.

"Well," I whispered, twisting my fingers together, wholly unable to look at him, "I'm really not comfortable with, um, modeling _nude_…"

Edward laughed out loud, shocking me. Was he making fun of me? Suddenly my embarrassment vanished, replaced by indignation.

"Bella, I don't expect you to model nude," he said, still chuckling.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I thought that all models were nude. But if that wasn't the case, then what _was_ he expecting of me?

I stood there mutely, waiting for Edward to explain himself. Plus, my own emotions were so jumbled that I didn't trust what might come out of my mouth.

First, I was upset that he laughed at my ignorance. This guy seemed to make a habit of insulting me, whether intentional or not. Second, I wasn't sure that I _ever_ wanted to model for him, even if I _was_ fully clothed. Third, why _wouldn't_ he want me to model nude? Was there something wrong with me? Did he think I was ugly? I was so confused. What had just happened?

"Seriously, Bella," he continued, "I just want to draw you as you are. No silly costumes, no props. And no nudity. Well, unless you want to, of course." He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned mischievously at me.

If I wasn't blushing before, I sure was now. I think my toes had even turned red. So much for my righteous indignation.

Despite my embarrassment, I had to ask. "Well, then why did you laugh at me?" I knew I probably sounded petulant, but given our track record for miscommunication so far, I wanted to be sure where we stood.

Edward now had the grace to look embarrassed, and he tugged on the back of his hair with a sheepish look on his face.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I shouldn't have laughed. It's just…"

I crossed my arms and waited. In spite of the strong urge to tap my foot, I decided to act maturely and simply give him time to respond.

"It's just," he continued, "the way you said it, _modeling nude_… I dunno, it sounded so immoral or wrong to you. And there's nothing wrong with that!" he added quickly as my eyebrows shot up again. "I just… it automatically made me think of those silent movies. You know, the ones with the evil villain twirling his mustache and tying the helpless girl onto the railroad tracks." He looked down at me with one of his dazzling smiles.

My breath caught.

_Concentrate, Bella. You're upset with him. You don't remember why, but … _

"Bella, I know that some creeps might ask a pretty girl to model for them just as a pretense to get her naked. But, Bella, what if I'm _not_ the evil villain? What if I'm… the good guy?"

"I don't know…" I said, looking away from him, afraid to admit that I really wanted him to be the good guy.

"Well, how about this," Edward interrupted. "What if I just draw a few sketches to give you an idea of what I had in mind? If you still hate it, I can scrap it and do something different."

He stood next to me quietly and took my hands in his. That now-familiar zap of excitement shot right to my stomach and transformed me, once again, into a quivering lump of nerves.

"I think you'd be an amazing subject to paint," he murmured.

His gaze was soft and tender, and for a moment, I imagined that he was Darcy – Colin Firth in the piano room, of course - to my Elizabeth Bennett. The most wonderful feeling began to swell deep inside of me.

"Your eyes are so expressive," he continued, "and there is this wonderful humor and quiet grace about you."

I immediately snorted at that. Quiet grace? Really? I think he needed both his hearing _and_ his vision checked. I tried to pull my hands away from his, but he merely held them tighter. Only when engulfed by his brother Emmett's paws did my hands feel as small and ineffectual as they did right now.

"I'm serious," he insisted, as if affronted by my disbelief. "I don't think you see yourself clearly at all. You seem to think that all you are is an accident waiting to happen."

_Hmph, so maybe his vision is just fine after all._

He tipped up my chin gently with his fingers, looking at me intently. His gaze transfixed my own, trying to breach my defenses.

Little did he know that my walls were already breaking down, nearly razed to rubble by his hypnotic emerald eyes, his crooked smile, his electric touch.

_Damn voodoo!_

"I see a beautiful girl who might be shy but who is also feisty… and sexy as hell when she gets pissed off!" He grinned, and his irresistible charm melted away my last bit of exasperation. "Stay right there, like that! I want to capture that look!"

Edward spun around, gathering a sketchpad and ink pens. A moment later he turned to look at me again, only this time with an intensely determined gaze. I was a little too surprised to move, let alone protest, and I admit that I was curious to see what he was going to do.

His pen raced around the paper, scratching ink into the fibers. I was fascinated by his intensity. Although he kept looking at my face, he did not look me in the eyes, and I found that to be less embarrassing than I thought it might be. His brow was puckered a bit in concentration, and the tip of his tongue was just poking out between his lips.

I smiled.

"Hey!" he chastised me with a smile of his own. "You aren't supposed to move."

I shrugged and smirked back at him. "Well, Picasso, let me see."

He turned the sketchpad around and once again I was astonished. I seemed to be looking into a mirror.

"How do you _do_ that?" I asked him with awe.

Edward shrugged. "I dunno. I could always draw, even as a little kid. My mom always said that I've been drawing for as long as I've been able to hold a crayon. She actually has boxes of my artwork stored in the attic, God knows why."

"That's kinda sweet," I said. "My mom printed out a copy of my very first story, and even put it in one of those report covers, so it looked like a real book." I smiled nostalgically. My mom was such a sentimental fool, but I remember being so proud of that little story.

"So, what was it about - your story?" Edward prompted.

I giggled, and then tried unsuccessfully to compose myself. "Well… it was _quite_ dramatic."

I cleared my throat before continuing. "Santa Claus received a letter one day from a girl who had never been given a Christmas present before, so he and the North Pole elves worked overtime to surprise her. This little girl lived in a vast tunnel system underground, which was why Santa had never heard of her before. So on Christmas Eve, Santa took his bag of toys and ventured deep into the cave to give the little girl and her friends their very first Christmas presents."

Edward was silent. Only his raised eyebrow indicated that he had heard my little tale.

"C'mon, I was six years old!" I pleaded. "Besides," I said with a little pout, "my teacher told me that she thought I was very creative."

"Or just plain weird," he muttered, before catching my eye and winking.

I smacked his arm playfully, causing him to grin at me again.

"So, can I draw one more of you?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes.

"C'mon, it wasn't _that_ bad, was it?"

"I suppose not," I replied sarcastically.

His quirked eyebrow came back, along with a twitch at the corner of his mouth. Trying to suppress a smile, he asked me to sit sideways on the filthy armchair, with my legs dangling over the arm.

I walked over to it and made a show of dusting off the seat.

Edward huffed. "Oh, don't be such a wuss. It's actually rather comfy."

I settled myself down and had to agree with him. Snuggling in a bit further, I closed my eyes as I heard his pen start to scratch the paper again. Although I was still uneasy about modeling for him, and not totally sure why I was doing it in the first place, my original terror had receded. He was able to make me look so pretty on paper. How could I help but be flattered?

A few minutes later he told me he was done, and I could get up and walk around while he finished up some details. I took that opportunity to peruse his music collection.

What an eclectic mix he had – AC/DC, Beethoven, The Clash, John Coltrane, Ella Fitzgerald, the Go-Go's …

_Wait, WHAT? The Go-Go's? Is he serious?_

I continued to read the CD jackets, silently giggling to myself that they were in alphabetical order: Led Zeppelin, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Nirvana, Prodigy, The Ramones, Sinatra, the soundtracks to "Blues Brothers," "O, Brother Where Art Thou?" and "The Red Violin".

My mind whirled at the schizophrenic nature of his collection. If this was representative of his tastes prior to digital music, what in the world must his iPod look like?

Gently shaking my head, I turned around, only to find him watching me with a curious smile on his face.

"What?" I asked, feeling slightly embarrassed again.

"What were you thinking of just now?"

The sound of his voice, so warm and gentle, made my insides quiver. Good Lord, would I ever be able to have a conversation with this guy without feeling so nervous?

He quietly looked at me, and I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Why do you listen to all this old stuff? Don't you have an iPod?" I immediately put my hand in front of my mouth and squeezed my eyes shut. "Sorry," I mumbled through my fingers. "I didn't mean it like that."

He shrugged. "I'm not offended. It does look kind of weird. I just prefer to keep my iPod paint-free." Edward leaned toward me and smiled. "And just so you know, Emmett gives me shit about it all the time."

At the sound of his brother's name, my mind immediately jumped to thoughts of Rose, and how I had to try to get back into the good graces of my new roommate.

"I should probably get back… you know, to check on Rose," I said, with a hint of panic leaking through.

"Oh. Sure. Want me to go with you?" Edward looked disappointed, but tried to hide it as he started to put away his drawing materials.

I would have loved to have him walk back with me, but I knew that I needed the time alone to brace myself for the onslaught I felt sure was coming. Would I be met with silence? Derision? Comments designed to magnify my guilty conscience?

Edward's presence turned my brain to a giddy mush, and I needed to present a strong front to Rose and whatever she might decide to throw my way.

"Thanks," I smiled at him. "But I think I'll be okay."

He stood up and brushed the dust from his jeans. "Alright. But before you go, do you want to look at my ideas first?"

He looked so hopeful that I knew I couldn't refuse him. When I nodded, his mega-watt smile nearly knocked me over.

_Breathe, Bella. Breathe!_

"Okay, here's the general idea," he began excitedly, gesturing with his hands. "I want to explore the juxtaposition between the public and the private self."

My brow furrowed. "English, please? I don't speak art geek."

Edward laughed - a warm, throaty sound.

"Let me finish, will you?" he grinned.

I smiled and shrugged, encouraging him to go on.

He began to get progressively more animated in his gestures while he spoke, reflecting his growing enthusiasm. "I love to watch people. I like to imagine what makes them tick. And I've noticed that many people act differently when they're alone versus when they're part of a group. Alone, most people don't seem to be as self-conscious. But add a few friends, and the dynamic inevitably changes. Body language is fascinating."

"So, what you mean is," I said a little snarkily, "that if Bella trips on a speck of dust and no one is around to see it, does she still blush?"

His guffaw was so uninhibited and contagious that I couldn't help but join in.

"That was priceless," he cackled with a cough, once he had calmed down enough to speak.

He went on to explain his ideas further, even sketching a sort of storyboard to show me what he meant. He acknowledged that everything was still preliminary, and that the actual paintings would take on a life of their own, but he knew where he wanted to end up.

I was captivated by his energy, his confidence, his talent. Although I still could not fully understand why he chose me, I had to admit that I was more than a little excited to be included in this huge undertaking.

When I agreed to continue working on this project with him, Edward beamed with satisfaction.

"Thank you, Bella. This means a lot to me."

"You're welcome, Edward." I glanced at the clock on the wall. "But I _really_ have to go now."

Before I could reach the door, he was already there, holding it open for me.

"Thank you again for the croissants, Edward," I said softly. "They were really yummy."

His smile and heated gaze created a new herd of butterflies in my gut.

"Anytime, Bella," he said gently. "It was my pleasure."

I started walking down the hallway when I heard him call after me. Turning around, I saw him wave.

"See you soon, Sparky!" he called.

I skipped lightly down the stairs, buoyant from Edward's attention. As I neared the main door I could see another student on his way in, juggling an enormous stretched canvas in his arms. I rushed to the door to hold it open for him.

The student looked up in surprise, apparently not expecting to find such timely assistance.

The happy butterflies which had resided so recently in my stomach immediately turned into a cold, congealed glob as I recognized who I was holding the door open for.

"Why, Bella, fancy meeting you here," purred James, the creepy guy from my art class.

The hair stood up on my arms. James crossed the threshold, then stopped, effectively trapping me in between himself, his canvas, and the door.

"So, what's a good little English student like you doing in the Studio Arts Building on a Saturday? Change your mind about modeling for me?" His arrogant smile turned lecherous.

A little bit of bile backed up into my throat.

_Oh, God… I think I just threw up in my mouth. _

I gently coughed before responding softly, "No, I was visiting a friend."

"A friend, huh? Anyone I know?" James moved closer to me. Unable to back up, I tried to slide over along the door, but was hampered by the large canvas in the way.

I really didn't want him to know my business, but he was obviously waiting for an answer.

"I don't know, James. This is a pretty big campus," I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

"Bella, Bella, Bella," he tsked. "There's no need to be coy with me. Now tell me, who's your artist friend? Maybe the three of us can get together sometime." He started to run his fingers up my arm, causing me to involuntarily shudder.

_I wonder if he thinks I was seeing a girlfriend, and that's the type of threesome he's hoping for. In that case…_

"Edward Cullen," I replied, throwing my shoulders back a bit and holding my head high.

_Let him make of that what he will._

James's eyes narrowed. "Cullen, huh? So you have a thing for prissy pretty-boys?"

His sneering grated on me. "He's a friend, and that's really none of your business." My voice, while quiet, had an unmistakable edge of defiance to it.

"Ooh, Bella, I like it when you get feisty! And here I thought you were so timid." He licked his lips in a hungry, feral way.

I was unable to suppress another shudder. "James, I really need to go. Excuse me." I pushed his canvas out of my way and quickly went outside.

James stood in the doorway, smirking. "See you in class on Monday, Bella," he called suggestively.

I neither turned around, nor acknowledged that I heard him, and didn't start to relax until I heard the door close.

Luckily the walk back to my new dorm was a short one – Arnason Hall was literally just down the street from the Studio Arts Building. I now understood why Butterfield Row seemed to collect art students; who wouldn't want to roll out of bed and stumble across the street to their 8 am class?

Nearing Arnason, I looked up at the dormer windows to my new room. My nerves started to get the better of me when I saw that the lights were on. Rose was awake.

I sighed. No time like the present to adjust her first impression of me.

End notes:

I know, I know, this chappie, like the previous one, was kinda short. But I figured that since you had to wait so long already, I'd rather give you all a short chapter now than make you wait even longer for a longer chapter.

So that tale about Santa in the caves… yeah, I actually did write something like that when I was six. And no, my mom never did keep a copy of that one. In fact, she was the one who thought it was weird. I don't blame you, Mom - it WAS kinda weird!

Sincere thanks must go to the following lovely people:

**Lostluggage** – Thank you for allowing me to purloin your use of the magical word "voodoo." It definitely has a ring to it, doesn't it? Edward, Daniel, Tyler, Cedric, Georges, Jacob, Art… only our boy could make them THAT memorable, right? Sigh… will our Puma Powers ever be able to compete with RobVoodoo?

**Idealistic4ever **and** Shelle87** – You continue to honor me with your exquisite proofreading and critiquing skills. And Shelle, thank you again for re-reading Chapter One and for making it even prettier for The Twilight Awards (Under the Radar Fics).

**nowforruin** – My amazing Twilighted v-beta – you make this process so fun and easy!

**Readergoof** – Have I mentioned that I love the banner you made me? I have? Oh. Well, I'm sayin' it again – I LOVE IT!

**Readers** – You are the reason why I am here. Seriously, I am amazed by the number of people who have read my little brain doodle. And those of you who have reviewed have my _eternal_ love! Thank you!

**_Quick, send me a note! You know you want to!_**

Here are some fanfic rec's in case you are totally fed up with my lack of updates:

**Need To Escape**, by lostluggage: RL Robfic. Yum. _Super_ yum. And 66 chappies already and not done yet! Whoo-hoo! Keep 'em comin'! (that's what she said…)

**On The Threshold**, by lostluggage: Companion story to NTE, told from Rob's POV (what's not to like?). 29 chapters so far and counting…

**Alphabet Weekends**, by the-glory-days: My introduction to fanfiction! Inferno hot! And complete!

**Stay**, by crimsonmarie: Sweet, sexy, fun, and Complete!

**Last Tango In Forks**, by AwesomeSauce76: WIP (17 chappies), but totally owns me right now!

And during my August hiatus, I took a break from Edward, Bella and fanfiction altogether (I know, shocking, right?) and read the following novels, which I highly recommend:

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, by Stieg Larsson

The Actor and The Housewife, by Shannon Hale

Lucy, by Laurence Gonzales

The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins (part 1 of a trilogy which has completely sucked me in!)

Catching Fire, by Suzanne Collins (part 2 of said trilogy)

**You're still reading this? Damn! So send me a note already! *winks***

(**Model Student** is posted on FFnet, Twilighted and The Writers Coffee Shop)


	8. Chapter 8: Tater Tot and Jiminy Cricket

**HOT DAMN!** Another chapter already! (don't get too used to it - I was inspired here.)

**Okay, quick public service announcement**: Project Team Beta is currently recruiting for qualified and knowledgeable betas. If any of you are interested in applying, please check out the beta applications page at their website**: ****www(dot)projectteambeta(dot)com**. If you have any questions, please feel free to contact**: thejmeyerprojectteambeta(dot)com** or**(dot)com**.

Project Team Beta is a magnificent organization made up of Twi-hards who volunteer their time and energy to beta (proof-read) fanfiction. In my humble opinion, everyone deserves to have their story polished by an objective reader. My words are always so much prettier after my two perma-betas have gussied them up!

Big thanks go to: **Shelle87** , **Idealistic4ever**, **Nowforruin** and **Readergoof**. Thank you, thank you! You know why!

And **ESPECIALLY** to my fabulous **readers**. My long-suffering, patient readers. Where would I be without you? Umm, daydreaming about Rob. Again. But that's a given, isn't it?

BTW, this chappie contains references to underage drinking, something I neither encourage nor condone.

Alright, enough jibber-jabber already! Let's get on with it!

**_Disclaimer:_ Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and the characters therein. No copyright infringement is intended. The intellectual property including, but not limited to, all characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to _mylittlebakersdozen_. No copying or reproduction of this work in any language is permitted without express written authorization of the author. Thank you!**

**BellaPOV**

I walked into the dorm and up the stairs to my room, nervous about how Rosalie would react to me this time.

_Time to put on the big-girl panties, Bella._

I squared my shoulders and reminded myself that I had every right to be there. The door was open and I could hear music playing. Emmett and Rosalie were lounging on the bed, snuggling and chatting softly. Neither one noticed my entrance until I cleared my throat.

"Um, hi, you guys," I croaked.

Both of their heads popped up at the same time to look at me. Rosalie rolled her eyes and put her head back down. Emmett, however, grinned widely at me and made me feel welcome despite my roommate's snotty attitude.

"Hey, there, Bella! Did Edward ever find you?"

"Uh, yeah, he did. Thanks." I was a little confused as to why Emmett would be so concerned about his brother's social life, but I just shrugged it off. Not having a sibling myself, I figured maybe the two brothers just always kept tabs on each other.

"Man, that boy has it so bad for you - ouch!" he cried as Rosalie slapped him. "What did you do that for, Rosie?"

"Mind your business, Em," she hissed.

"What? It was _hilarious_ the way he ran out of the lounge like a bat out of hell! I don't think I've _ever_ seen him react to a girl's cold shoulder that way before." Emmett smiled at me, and I knew I had to set him straight.

"No, Emmett, it's not like that at all. He just wants me to help him with his senior exhibit. He just wants me to model for him."

Rosalie lifted her head off the pillow again. Her perfectly waxed eyebrows arched at my confession and she had a trace of a smirk dancing at the corner of her mouth. Emmett was not nearly as subtle.

"No shit? Heh, so I _was_ right!" he chortled.

"No, really!" Unfortunately my pleas to the contrary fell upon deaf ears, leaving me completely embarrassed.

Looking at the clock, I realized that lunch would no longer be served in the dining commons. I didn't think I had been out that long, but I had no idea how long I had been at Edward's studio with him.

_Obviously, long enough to bypass lunch_, I thought glumly.

As if hearing my thoughts, my stomach grumbled loudly.

"I'm gonna head out to the Café and grab a bite to eat. Can I get you guys anything while I'm there?"

They shook their heads and I left the room, barely five minutes after I had entered.

When I returned, sporting a full belly as well as a new sweatshirt from the campus bookstore, both Rosalie and Emmett were gone. I had the room to myself, and decided to start putting my things away.

My first task was to strip the blankets off of the "sofa-bed" and put my own sheets on it, thus returning the bed to its original function. Because the October nights were now getting so chilly, I decided to use my super-snuggly micro-fleece sheets. I had splurged when I bought them on sale last spring, but rationalized my choice by telling myself that I wouldn't need any extra blankets until winter really set in. Eh, who was I kidding – these things were so damned comfy, and right now a little extra comfort when I had to be around Rose and her icy demeanor was well worth it.

I also moved the bed frame ninety degrees so it was no longer in the middle of the wall, making it parallel to the entrance instead. Looking around for something to use as a nightstand, I dragged the small refrigerator over to the head of the bed and plugged it in.

Next, I plugged in a small lamp, and was about to set up my alarm clock when I realized I needed to dig out my power strip first, as the wall outlet was already filled up. I rummaged around in my now-detested steamer trunk until I found the power cord I needed, and finished setting up my nightstand.

Pleased with my progress so far, I grabbed one of my boxes of books and dragged it over to the little bookshelf. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, I started humming while putting my books away.

Presently I heard a knock and looked up to see Jasper's warm smile.

"Hello, there, darlin'. I just stopped by to tell you that I'm havin' a little soiree tonight, and you are most definitely invited."

"Thanks, Jasper! What time?" I brushed the stray hairs from my face and was momentarily thankful that I had had the foresight to French-braid my hair that morning.

"Whenever Emmett brings the beer. Probably around nine." He smiled conspiratorially. "Now if you will excuse me, I need to invite a few more scoundrels to round out the guest list." With that, he winked, and started to walk down the hallway.

I had to chuckle. Who else but Jasper could make a kegger sound as classy as a Southern brunch?

He had not gone too far when a thought occurred to me.

"Hey, Jasper!" I called. "Mind if I bring someone?"

"Of course not, darlin'," he smiled and continued on his way.

A little before nine o'clock, I heard a knock on my door. Smiling, I got up off my bed and welcomed my visitor with a tight hug.

"Hey, there, stranger!" I gushed.

Angela hugged me back quickly before stepping back to examine my room. "Holy moly, Bells, you weren't kidding. This room is awesome!"

"I know, right? I _love_ this room!"

"You were a little cryptic on the phone, though. Is everything okay?" Angela turned around and her brow puckered a little as she directed her concerned gaze at me.

I shrugged. "It's a long story. Suffice it to say, my extraordinary stupidity caused an accident with my new roommate, and she isn't too happy with me right now."

Angela waited. "And… ? I want details, girl!"

I sighed. "It's monumentally embarrassing, Ang. You see this steamer trunk?" I pointed to the offending object.

She nodded, perplexed.

Twisting my fingers together nervously, I tried to explain as quickly as possible. "Well, I kind of accidentally let go of the handle when we were bringing it up the stairs, and it fell down half a flight, crashing into Rosalie. It, um, broke her ankle." I looked up sheepishly at my friend, trying to smile in an I-know-I'm-dumb-but-can-you-forgive-me-anyways sort of look.

Angela took a moment before responding. She glanced at the trunk, then back at me. Then at the trunk again. Then back at me. "You're not kidding, are you?" She asked me softly.

I shook my head, my lips set in a grim line.

"Jesus Christ, Bella. Only you."

She sat down heavily on the bed and looked at me with undisguised pity. "Honey, you know I love you. But I think we need an intervention here or something." She reached out and cradled my hand, gently patting it.

I couldn't help but chuckle awkwardly. "Yeah, well, I think an intervention might help if I was a junkie or something. But I never actually _try_ to be a dork. It just comes naturally."

We grinned at each other and Angela gave me a warm hug. Without letting go of my arms, she looked at me over her dark-rimmed glasses and spoke quietly. "I think we need to boost your self-esteem, girl. Your self-confidence. _Something_! Maybe if you were more comfortable in your own body, you might not be such an eternal klutz."

I snorted.

She continued with a warm smile. "What about a dance class? I used to take ballet as a kid. I'm sure you could audit a class or two."

"Oh, please, now I _know_ you're making fun of me," I rolled my eyes at her. "Me? In a _ballet_ class?"

"Why not?" Angela retorted. "You can actually be quite graceful when you don't over think it. Try it. What's the worst that could happen?"

I cocked my head down, staring up at her like I couldn't believe what she had just said, and we both burst out laughing.

"Well, I'm sure that no one has ever _died_ while taking a dance class," Angela giggled. I slapped her arm, but couldn't really be mad at her.

"I dunno, Ang. I'll think about it, okay?"

"Uh-huh. Right," she smirked at me. "But I won't bug you about it anymore tonight."

She got up off the bed and started to poke around my new room, looking at the knick-knacks and posters I had started to decorate with. "So, any hotties in your new dorm?"

My face blushed bright red and I started to pick imaginary lint off my bedspread.

"Bella… ?" Angela turned around to gape at me, surprised that her innocent question had reduced me to a tomato-face.

"Bella. What. Did. You. Do?" she whispered in horror.

"Um," I squeaked, unable to look at her.

"Bella, please tell me you didn't maim anybody else. Oh, God, you didn't use your patented backpack-in-the-balls technique on some hot guy, did you?"

I grimaced at that memory and shook my head. Last semester, while preparing to leave one of my classes, I swung my backpack up from the floor, intending to put it over my shoulder. Instead, I heard a grunt and a thud. Turning around, I noticed a classmate curled up on the floor, clutching his private parts and groaning. When I offered to help him up, he just glared at me, so I high-tailed it out of the room and made sure to sit far away from him in subsequent classes.

Angela was still waiting, so I held up my finger, willing her to give me a moment to collect my thoughts. I tried to think back to when I last spoke with her. I usually saw Angela on Mondays and Wednesdays before lunch, but she had had plans this past Wednesday, so I had not had a chance to tell her anything about my latest encounters with Edward.

"Um," I began, twisting my fingers. "You remember that really good-looking guy who was listening to us in the Student Center on Monday? The guy with the fabulous jawporn?"

"Yes…," said Angela slowly, crooking her head to the side, as if trying to decode my words.

"Well, I've seen him a few times since then, and he lives in this dorm." I took a deep breath. "I saw him wearing just a towel, and that's why I dropped the trunk, and I think I really like him, and he's an art major, and he wants me to model for him," I rushed.

Angela shook her head and whistled. "Oh, girlie, what are we gonna do with you?" She smirked at me. "You don't do anything half-way, do you, honey?"

I could only shrug. What could I say?

"So, are you really gonna _model_ for him?" she waggled her eyebrows suggestively at me.

Again, I shrugged, but this time my blush deepened.

"Oh, my God! You are, aren't you? I don't believe it!" Angela raced back to sit next to me, eager to hear every morsel of this new information. "And here I was, trying to get you to take a freakin' ballet class! Bells, I apologize. You are so much braver than I took you for!" Angela gushed. "I don't think I'd have the nerve to model naked in front of a really hot guy. Kudos to you, Bella!"

"No, uh-uh, Ang. It won't be like that. Really. He doesn't want me to be nude."

She merely rolled her eyes at me. Why won't anybody believe me? This was starting to get really annoying.

"Fine. Don't believe me," I whined, crossing my arms defensively. "Nobody else does, either. Why should you be any different?"

Chastened by my hurt feelings, Angela quickly apologized. "I'm sorry, Bells. Of course I believe you. I was just a little surprised, that's all."

I harrumphed, petulantly accepting her apology.

"So," she began, "think he'll be at this party tonight?"

Jasper sure knew how to throw a party, in spite of the fact that he was an RA who should have known better. I had tried to pace myself, but by midnight I was feeling no pain and was quite happily drunk.

Angela and I were walking (okay, stumbling) arm in arm through the hallways, loudly singing "Que Sera, Sera". We only knew the words to the chorus, so we kept singing it over and over. Only Tanya came out of her room to tell us to "keep it down" – no one else seemed bothered by our off-key tune.

I wondered what her problem was. Was she a congenital bitch? Or was it a learned behavior?

I slurred my thoughts out loud to an equally drunk Angela, and we both burst out laughing. Angela added that someone needed to pull the witch's broomstick out of her ass.

Clutching onto each other, we continued to serenade the different floors of my new dorm. We were going down the stairs to the third floor when my foot caught the very last step, launching me into the open doorway. I landed on my forearms and knees, butt high in the air, and started to giggle uncontrollably.

"Bella? Is that you?" a deep, velvety male voice asked.

_Hey! I know that voice! It's the sound of my subconscious, warning me that I've done something stupid again. _I kept giggling. _My very own Jiminy Cricket of Clumsiness!_

I sat up and saw Angela frozen in place, gaping like a codfish at our newest companion.

"Hi, Jiminy," I giggled. "Angela, this is Jiminy Cricket. Jiminy, Angela."

"Uhh," Edward muttered, hopelessly confused. He looked over at Angela and ran his long fingers through his hair, causing it to stand up in silly ways.

I started to giggle again. "Only Jiminy Cricket never had such fantastic sex hair, did he, Ang?"

"Guh," was all she could utter, still in awe of Edward's beauty. He really was too pretty for words.

"Bella, are you okay?" he asked, trying to get a handle on this admittedly weird conversation.

"Oh, yeah! I'm great! How are you?" I effused.

"Bella, I think you've had enough to drink. Can I help you get back to your room?"

"Sure!" I beamed at him.

Edward continued to tug on his hair and looked over at Angela. "Do you live here, too?"

"Guh," she replied, still dazzled by the Pretty.

He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, his brow creasing in thought. Looking back at us, his decision made, he spoke to us like we were little children.

"Bella, I'm going to walk you back to your room. Angela, I want you to stay _right here_. Don't move. I'll be back in a minute and then I'll take you to your own room. Okay?"

She nodded wordlessly, still gaping at him.

Before I knew what was happening, Edward picked me up and slung me over his shoulder as if I was a sack of potatoes. That image sent a new round of giggles through me, and I started shouting out the first thing I could think of.

"French fries! Mashed! Baked!"

"Bella, what are you talking about?" he asked with amusement.

"I'm a sack of potatoes!" I shouted gleefully.

Edward chuckled as he carried me to my room.

**Edward POV**

I had never seen Bella drunk before. She sure was a happy drunk, I'll give her that. I wondered if she drank often, and if so, if this was her usual routine.

"Tater tot!" she shouted. "I'm a little tater tot!"

"Okay, Tater Tot, time for bed," I said, striding through the open doorway of her room.

Rosalie was on her bed, her leg propped up with extra pillows. She looked less than pleased to see Bella's exuberant state. I just shrugged at Rose and then turned to concentrate on Bella. Gently I eased her off my shoulder and onto her bed.

Bella looked up at me with big brown doe-eyes and, in an unintentionally loud stage whisper, asked me, "Does Rosalie looked pissed off? Do you think she still hates me?"

I glanced over at Rose, who was obviously able to hear Bella's questions, and she merely rolled her eyes and went back to reading her Cosmo.

"No, Tater Tot, nobody hates you. And Rose always looks pissed off, even when she's happy." I couldn't hide my chuckle when I heard a loud harrumph coming from the opposite side of the room.

I sat down on the edge of Bella's bed and carefully removed her Converse sneakers. She had such tiny little feet.

_I bet my hands are longer than her little feet are._

Just as I was measuring her foot along the span of my hand, Bella spoke again.

"Edward? What are you doing here?" Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, but I thought she might be blushing as well.

"Bella," I said softly, smoothing a strand of hair away from her face, "don't you remember? I just carried you in here a few minutes ago."

A tiny little pucker furrowed her brow as she concentrated, echoing the shape of her pursed mouth.

_Damn, she is just too cute like that. That mouth is just begging to be kissed._

I stifled my groan when I felt my cock twitch, knowing that I really wanted to do a hell of a lot more than just kiss this girl. Unfortunately, my mother brought me up the right way, and there was no way I was going to kiss her while she was drunk and vulnerable. Instead my hand reached out and caressed her face, my thumb smoothing and relaxing her lips. I could hear her breathing hitch.

I wanted to stay with her longer, but knew I had some unfinished business to take care of.

"Bella? Where does Angela live?"

"Angela?" Bella looked around, frowning.

"She's still in the hallway, Bella. I have to take her back home. Where does she live?"

"Piermont, of course," as if this information was obvious.

_Great._ All the way across campus. Thank God I had a car.

"Bella, baby, which room in Piermont does she live in?"

"Two twenty two!" chortled Bella. "Two twenty two Piermont! Two twenty two!" She elongated the vowel of the last "two", keeping her lips in a pucker.

This time I actually did groan out loud. This girl was going to kill me with her seductive innocence. She had absolutely no idea what she did to me.

Bella stopped cooing and smiled. A big, warm, I'm-so-glad-you're-here smile.

"Hi," she said shyly.

"Hi," I whispered back.

We just looked at each other, drinking in the other's gaze. Finally Bella averted her eyes, and seemed to become even more shy than usual.

"What is it?" I gently probed, stroking her glossy hair.

She turned her liquid chocolate eyes to mine, took a deep breath, and whispered, "Kiss me, Edward."

I gasped. That was the last thing I had expected her to say. And I almost caved. Oh, God, I was so close to saying, "Screw it," but I couldn't do it. As much as I wanted to kiss those soft lips, I had to refuse. How did I know she didn't do this every time she got drunk? Did she really want _me_, or would any guy suffice? My ego was sensitive enough that I wanted, no, _needed_, her to want only me. If she asked me when she was sober, I wouldn't hesitate to give her the best damn kiss of her life.

Bella saw me gasp and hesitate, and immediately looked horrified. She tried to roll over onto her side, away from me, but I gently held her shoulders in place and tried to convey my desire for her in a way she would accept. She refused to look at me, but I had to try.

"Bella, baby, not when you're drunk," I whispered.

I looked over my shoulder, nervously eyeing Rosalie. Had she heard this latest turn in our conversation? She seemed absorbed in her magazine, but I couldn't be sure. I didn't want to give her any more ammunition to use against Bella, so I leaned in close to Bella's ear and whispered.

"Ask me again when you're sober."

She did not respond, so I was not even sure if she heard me. I let her roll over and watched as she burrowed under the covers, with just the top of her head escaping the blankets. I leaned over and gently kissed her hair, then carefully got up off the bed.

Now I had to help Angela get home.

End notes:

Ahh, to be young, stupid, and drunk. And confused. These poor kids just can't seem to get it together, can they?

*hides behind sofa* Hey! No rotten tomatoes! I saw that! This slow burn will erupt in flame soon enough, I _promise_!

Thanks for reading, and _please_ review!

BTW, I have just created a Facebook page, so let me know if you find it and what you think of it. I'm listed there as Mylittle Bakersdozen. It's very lonely over there; I have very few friends… sniff sniff!

(This fic is posted on FFnet, Twilighted and The Writers Coffee Shop.)


	9. Chapter 9: No Turning Back Now

******* This is a slightly revised version of the one I posted on Christmas Eve. If you have already read the original Chapter 9, don't bother reading this one. It has merely been tweaked. Me and my OCD perfectionism...**

**Chapter notes:**

Yeah, I know. I suck.

**_Eternal thanks_** go to my betas **Shelle87** and **Idealistic4ever**, my Twilighted v-beta **Nowforruin**, my banner-maker **Readergoof**, and most of all to you, **_my patient readers_**!

And hugs and kisses to my hetero soulmate: **TheRani1981**. Who'd-a-thunk that we'd find each other via Twilight fanfic, even though we live in the US and Austria? I love you, sweetie!

**_Disclaimer:_ Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and the characters therein. No copyright infringement is intended. The intellectual property including, but not limited to, all characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to _mylittlebakersdozen_. No copying or reproduction of this work in any language is permitted without express written authorization of the author. Thank you!**

**Chapter 9, No Turning Back Now**

**BellaPOV**

Quiet sounds whispered in the background - a muted curse, a deep, rumbly chuckle, a sharp slap.

Thump…step…thump…step…thump…step.

What was that sound? I couldn't place it. Then I heard the door open and the thump-step continued softly down the hallway.

I rolled over and went back to sleep.

Bright sunlight streamed into the room practically burning holes through my eyelids. I groaned loudly, wincing at the sound of my own voice. Who put a jackhammer in my head? And something definitely died an agonizing death in my mouth - even my tongue felt fuzzy. Ugh, so this must be a hangover. No wonder I never got this drunk before.

I sat up slowly, keeping my eyes closed tightly. I swear the light was so bright that I could almost see right through my eyelids. Squinting tightly, I managed to hobble over to my backpack where I kept a small container of Advil. I washed down a few pills with some bottled water and crawled back into bed, deep under the covers.

"Bella, honey, you have to get up. You've been sleeping all day! C'mon, Hangover Harriet!" chirped Alice, much too happily for my taste.

Actually, all I really heard was "Mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah," like the adults in those Charlie Brown movies.

"Go away and let me die in peace," I grumbled.

"Oh, silly, you're not going to die. You're just dehydrated. Here, I brought you some water. And some _coffee_…," Alice trilled in her little sing-song voice.

Mmm, I could smell it now. Alice must have been holding it close to the pillow so I could breathe in the vapors. I stretched my hand out from under the blankets to claim my beverage, but that evil little pixie thwarted me.

"No, no, Bella!" she tsked. "You have to get up first!"

"I need my coffee first before I can get up, you – you - _happy_ person," I growled, still not awake enough to insult her properly.

She merely giggled and agreed to a compromise. "Okay, Bells, but you have to at least sit up. I didn't bring you a straw!"

After grumbling some more, I eventually sat up and opened my bleary eyes to look at her. I gratefully accepted the coffee and held onto it as if it was my life preserver.

"You know that this is _not_ going to become a habit, right? Me bringing you coffee, that is." Alice looked sharply at me, then smiled to soften the blow.

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Mom," I replied sarcastically.

"So," she said, looking around. "It looks like you've started to make yourself at home. Wanna go shopping today?"

My dull, glazed expression didn't faze her. "Actually, Alice, there is something I need your help with. And no, I am not going out in public today." She huffed and crossed her arms but I continued. "See that window desk?" I nodded my head in its direction. "I really want to make it into a comfy reading nook. Think you can help?"

"Oh, my gosh! Really? What a great idea! What a perfect place for it! I can so totally see lots of really comfy pillows and stuff…"

I let Alice ramble cheerfully on, allowing myself a little breather in which to enjoy my coffee. My momentary happy place was destroyed, however, when I heard Alice prattling on about Edward.

"And oh, my God, he is so hot, Bella! You really weren't kidding, were you? And he even lives here, what a coincidence! And Jasper told me that Emmett told him that Edward wants you to model for him! How exciting! This is even better than I could have predicted!"

"Alice, not now. Please."

"Oh, come on! I could tell that he really liked you when we were all in the lounge yesterday. And then he asked me what you liked to eat – I thought he was going to run after you. Did he ever meet up with you?"

"Yes, Alice," I said glumly, not wanting to have this conversation, but knowing that Alice would not stop until she had all her necessary details.

"Ooh, I love it!" She clapped her hands and bounced on the bed a little.

"C'mon, stop shaking the bed. My head hurts," I whined. "And besides, he does NOT like me. He made that perfectly clear last night." I pouted a little and hunkered down with my coffee.

"What? What happened?" She actually stopped moving so she could hear me.

"I'm too embarrassed to talk about it, Alice."

She merely crossed her arms and waited. And waited some more. Finally she couldn't take it and burst out, "Bella! I'm dying here! You know I don't have a lot of patience to wait for this kind of info! Talk to me!" Her pleading _was_ a little cute, I had to admit.

"Okay, but you cannot interrupt me. No! I mean it!" I scolded when I saw her try to interject. It was her turn to pout then.

Taking a big swig of coffee and then a deep breath, I reluctantly relayed my tale of humiliation to her.

"After we left Jazz's room, Angela and I were pretty drunk, and we started walking through the dorm. We met Edward, and he helped me back to my room, where I made the biggest fool out of myself." I stopped then to take another gulp of coffee. "I actually got up the nerve to ask him to kiss me, but he looked shocked and just said no. And then he kept asking where Angela lived, so I think he has the hots for her instead. He probably spent last night with _her_." I couldn't help but sulk by this point.

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry," Alice cooed softly. "But he _really_ seemed into you yesterday. Maybe you just misunderstood."

"No, Al," I shook my head sadly. "If you had seen the look on his face, you'd agree with me. He doesn't like me like that. And there's no way I can model for him now. I'd die of embarrassment."

Thankfully Alice remained quiet, and only rubbed my shoulder softly.

She eventually convinced me to get up, shower and change my clothes, and then made me promise to meet her for supper. Once she was gone, I crawled back into bed and continued to work on one of my mid-term papers, thankful that my jackhammer headache had finally receded.

Monday morning started with a bang. Literally.

My alarm clock beeped incessantly as I tried to find it in my sleepy stupor. I was still getting used to the placement of things in my new room, and when I tried to shut off the blasted clock, I inadvertently knocked over the bedside lamp. The friggin' clock kept beeping, though; it had fallen somewhere underneath the bed.

"What the fuck is going on? Turn that fucking thing OFF!" growled my sleepy and very annoyed roommate.

"I'm trying," I mumbled angrily.

"Well, try harder," Rosalie complained. She rolled over and put her pillow over her head to drown out the noise.

I finally found the offending clock under my bed and turned it off, then picked up my fallen lamp and reinstated it on my bedside fridge/nightstand. Luckily the bulb had not visibly broken, but I made a mental note to get more light bulbs at the campus store today anyway since the filament probably didn't survive the crash.

_This is going to be a long day. I hate Mondays._

I grabbed my towel and shower supplies and headed to the bathroom. The reassuring scents of my favorite strawberry shampoo and freesia body wash helped put me in a better frame of mind, and by the time I had dried off I was feeling considerably better. Not wanting to annoy Rosalie any further, I quickly dressed and ran out the door, stopping at the café to grab a muffin and coffee.

Garrett was setting up our model just as I arrived at the art studio, meaning that I was a good ten minutes late. He merely acknowledged my arrival with a nod, and gestured to an unoccupied easel. Feeling self-conscious about being tardy, I hurriedly set up my drawing supplies. As with our previous classes, we started with a few thirty-second gesture sketches, followed by a five-minute drawing. Garrett then told us that today we had the luxury of a two-hour pose, and we would critique each other's work during the next class on Wednesday.

I settled in and focused on my drawing. After about thirty minutes of intense work, I stopped briefly to stretch my arms and back, and took another swig of coffee. As I turned back to my easel, the strangest feeling washed over me - the hair on the back of my neck stood up, and my skin started to crawl.

_What the hell?_

Looking around me, I couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. I shrugged it off and went back to work. A few minutes later I started to feel odd again, and this time when I looked up, I saw James smirking back at me from across the room. He even winked at me.

Why wouldn't this creep just leave me alone? I wondered if I had enough cause to slap a restraining order or harassment suit against him. Probably not. With my luck, he would be the type who was smart enough to just skirt the legal limits of nearly anything.

Lost in my internal world, I continued fuming until I felt a large hand land on my shoulder. Giving a little shriek, I jumped and turned around, scaring Garrett, who had merely come by to check on my progress.

"I'm so sorry, Bella, I thought you heard me," he chuckled. "I was saying that I liked that specific area you were working on – the energy of it feels more vibrant, somehow. I think your confidence has increased over the last few weeks, and it's showing up in your work. Well done."

I blushed at the praise and mumbled a thank you in embarrassment.

The rest of class sped by, and all too soon I had to pack up my supplies and prepare to head out. I noticed that James was hovering near the door, meaning that I had to walk right by him to leave the studio.

Thinking quickly, I turned to the girl next to me. "Um, hi. Jessica, right?" She looked at me with a little frown before nodding her head in assent. "I just wanted to say that I've been admiring your boots all class. Where did you get them? I'm Bella, by the way."

Luckily, Jessica was flattered by my compliment and rambled on about what a great deal she got on her boots, how she got the last pair in the store, and so on. I wasn't really listening to her, and honestly didn't understand half of what she was talking about. But she did provide a nice cover for me to escape the studio without being accosted by slimy James, so I pretended that I knew something about fashion.

Once we were outside and I was confident that James wasn't following me, Jessica and I went our separate ways – she turned toward the Student Center, while I headed over to the library. Normally I would have met Angela for a cup of coffee and some juicy gossip on one of the Student Center couches, but I didn't have any desire to see that traitor today.

How dare she steal Edward away like that? She knew that I liked him. Hell, we had talked about him enough before the party. Ugh, the party. The booze. I had made such a fool out of myself, and was sure I had lost any chance I might have had with Edward. Why would Angela do that to me? What did she have that I didn't?

I threw my backpack onto the library table a little harder than I had intended to, causing the librarian to look up at me with a scowl. I set up my laptop and started trying to organize my notes for yet another mid-term paper. With a frustrated sigh, I put my head in my hands and wondered for the umpteenth time why I was letting my life go to pieces over some guy. We weren't even dating and yet I felt possessive about him.

With supreme strength of will, I somehow managed to get some actual work done, and put out of my mind the beautiful, dazzling man who had walked into my life merely a week ago.

The rest of the day was mostly uneventful. I decided to have lunch in a different cafeteria, to prevent awkward conversations about my drunkenness with anyone I was familiar with, but kept my nose in a book the whole time, just in case. French class was blessedly mundane, and my Arthurian Legends class proved to be more entertaining than usual. Eric Yorkie, the class geek, began a lively debate discussing the dubious merits of Hollywood's contributions to the genre, from _Excalibur_ to _Arthur_ to _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_. I couldn't remember the last time I had laughed so much in class, and it was a welcome diversion from the pity-party going on in my head.

By the time I returned to my dorm in late afternoon, I was feeling much better about things than I had earlier that morning. I replaced the light bulb in my bedside lamp, as it had indeed died, and got up to put some music on. Classic U2 spilled out of the little speakers, and I sang along with Bono about Sunday Bloody Sunday. Instead of studying, I leaned back against my pillows, closed my eyes, and enjoyed my eclectic playlist. I was singing along with Meredith Brooks when I heard a sweet soprano voice join my awkward alto halfway into the chorus.

I'm a bitch, I'm a lover

I'm a child, I'm a mother

I'm a sinner, I'm a saint

I do not feel ashamed

I'm your hell, I'm your dream

I'm nothing in between

You know you wouldn't want it any other way

alfway through hh

I looked at my singing companion and she just shrugged.

"What?" Rosalie asked. "I like to sing, and I like that song. It's kinda my anthem, you know?" She gave me a small smile and hobbled into the room on her crutches.

I didn't know what to say. Was Rosalie actually playing nice? Was there an ulterior motive? I ignored my suspicions and asked how she was feeling.

"I've been better," she said dryly. "But I do need to talk with you."

_Uh-oh. I knew this was too good to be true._

I remained silent while she got comfortable on her bed, elevating her damaged leg with several pillows.

Rosalie looked me square in the eye and I blanched.

"I spoke with the TA who arranges all the modeling assignments," she began. "I also tracked down as many of the models themselves as I could. The bottom line is that I cannot model for any figure drawing classes while in this condition." She gestured to her broken ankle. "There's no way I would be able to move into the different poses required of me."

I nodded. Of course, she was right.

"Seeing as how you were the one to put me into this condition, I thought it would be only fair that you help to remedy the situation."

_What? What does that mean?_

"I'm sorry, Rosalie, I don't understand."

"I need you to take over one of my assignments."

My blank look obviously amused her, for she smirked and said, "I need you to model for one of my classes, Bella."

I just blinked at her. Was she serious? Judging by that determined look on her face, she had to be. My bubble of happiness from earlier deflated with a sad _pffft_.

"Wait, but I can't model," I quickly recovered. "I've never done anything like that before. Can't the other models pick up your class?"

"Well, yeah, I was able to get coverage for Garrett's morning class, _your_ class. I can't imagine you'd be able to pose _and_ draw, would you?" Rosalie seemed to be enjoying herself. "But I can't get anyone to cover for my evening class, and that's when I thought of _you_." She actually had the gall to smile at me.

"But …" I stammered.

"But what, Bella? You've told me that you feel horrible about my accident and that you wanted to help, and here's your chance. What else is there to say?" She managed to look both innocent and self-satisfied at the same time.

I was numb. What _could_ I say? Absolutely nothing. She was right. I just had to suck it up and take my penance.

_Wait a minute. Just suck it up and take my penance? Where the hell did that come from? Why should I let her make me feel guilty – uh, guiltiER – over what everyone agreed was an accident? And besides, I was not obligated to substitute for her modeling assignments. They were HER responsibility, not mine. Where did she get off trying to pin that on me? Volunteer me, indeed!_

While I was internally stewing over Rosalie's ploy, I looked over at her and my indignation flared higher. She couldn't keep the smirk off her face. She knew that I would never be comfortable with modeling nude, and just wanted to see me squirm.

_Fine! I'll show her and everyone else who thinks I can't handle it. _

A flashback of Lauren, my former roommate, popped into my head.

"_You're such a goodie-two-shoes, Bella. At least I'm not ashamed of being a girl. I actually like my body." _

I was going to do this. I was going to do this for ME. I was a strong, independent woman, dammit, and I was NOT ashamed of my body!

I looked Rosalie dead in the eye, daring her to look away first.

"Alright, Rosalie," I said with a confident lift of my chin. "When is the class?"

**Edward POV**

**(Sunday)**

I couldn't remember the last time I had been so fired up and eager to paint. My imagination was working overtime, churning out images I had to frantically sketch down on paper before I forgot them. Had I eaten? Who knows? I didn't care. I wasn't hungry.

After Bella left my studio yesterday, I stayed for a few hours to work. I kept the door open and my music blaring, only acknowledging the outside world once when I looked up and happened to see someone walking slowly past my studio.

What was his name? Jason or James or something like that. I remembered seeing him in my Independent Study class, and recalled being unimpressed with his work. His talent was mediocre at best. We locked eyes for a moment before he sauntered off. I just ignored him and kept working.

Eventually I had to lock up and grab something to eat, but I was too antsy to go back to the dorm. I ended up buying a few extra sandwiches, some bags of chips and a case of Mountain Dew to stock my studio fridge with. I had a hunch that I would be spending lots of time there now.

I finally returned to the dorm close to midnight, eager to get some sleep. After sketching away most of the demons swirling around in my head, I was finally able to shut my mind off from thinking about Bella and my exhibit.

Until I met Bella and her friend in the hallway.

I groaned at the memory. She weighed next to nothing when I picked her up, and she was so deliciously cute; her little potato comments continued to make me chuckle. And then when she asked me to kiss her, with those innocent eyes, those red pouty lips …

I had to readjust the front of my pants again just thinking about her. Christ, this girl gave me a perma-stiffie. I had already jerked off once this morning and was ready to go again.

I looked around my studio and sighed - I had so much work to do. Professor Aro was right, but I would never admit that to him. I was seriously behind with the execution of my exhibit and couldn't afford to waste any more time. I would just have to endure the boner and jerk off later. I opened another can of Dew and prepared to stretch yet another canvas.

I had been here in my studio since right after breakfast, and didn't plan on coming out again until maybe suppertime. My appointment with Aro was tomorrow morning at 10:30, so I wouldn't be able to see Bella after her drawing class, the way I had done last week.

I wondered how she was feeling after last night. God, she was so drunk! I chuckled again, just thinking about that. How much did she remember? That's what I really wanted to know. Would she be able to ask me to kiss her again? Somehow, I didn't think so. She always seemed so shy, which was why I was so taken aback by her request. I wish I could have stayed in her room longer, just to hear what other funny things she might say.

Sometimes I think Emmett might be right – maybe I am too nice, or in his words, a "fuckin' pussy". Between staying away from Bella's perfectly kissable lips and carrying her drunken friend home, I should seriously be nominated for sainthood.

The way that girl Angela kept looking at me was really weird, too, as if she thought I was something really good to eat. Once she snapped out of her zombie-like trance, she somehow maintained a huge, goofy grin. She didn't even look me in the face; well, not really. Her eyes stayed focused on my chin or neck, I wasn't quite sure which. It really creeped me out. I think I preferred the zombie Angela, actually.

Her dorm was all the way across campus, and I was never so thankful that I had a car. I placed her in the front passenger seat of my Volvo, fastened her seatbelt, and closed the door. I remember watching her watching me as I walked around to the driver's seat. She seemed to be transfixed by my jaw; every movement of mine was followed by her eyes. I could almost imagine a string reaching from my jaw to her gaze.

When we finally reached Piermont House, I had to practically carry her inside. She was able to stand up, but her legs were a little wobbly and she still could not take her attention away from my ear. Luckily she had her room key hanging on a lanyard around her neck, so I was easily able to open her door and helped her onto her bed. Before I left, I made sure that she had a bottle of water on her nightstand, as well as a wastebasket at the edge of the bed in case she had to vomit later on. I remembered saying goodnight to her and leaving the room as quickly and quietly as possible.

I finished stretching the last canvas and paused in my work, mentally planning out my paintings. I had decided to employ a mixed-media technique using both photographic images of Bella and her surroundings as well as traditional oil paints. Some of the paintings would be portraits, while others would be more abstract. I also wanted to have a common motif running through each painting, something which would tie all the separate pieces together.

My first thought was to use a specific color to represent Bella, but I was worried that that might seem too trite. I recalled that the first time I saw the movie _Schindler's List_, I was struck by the poignancy of the little girl in the pink coat. I couldn't remember if the movie had used any other colors, or if the rest was entirely black and white, but I could not forget that little girl.

_Oh, what the hell. If Spielberg could use that trick, why not me? _

But not pink – it was too little-girly. And not red, either – too obvious. What I needed was a hue that could be delicate, yet feisty, just like Bella herself. I pictured her in my mind. Immediately I thought of her as she asked me to kiss her, her chestnut hair fanned around her head as she lay upon her pillow.

Her pillow! Yes! Her bedding was perfect – it was a combination of different purples, from soft lilac to deep eggplant. I quickly stood up and grabbed some paints and my palette to try out a few combinations. Ultramarine Rose and Manganese Violet were two good purple pigments to start with, and I fiddled around with adjusting the hues of each. Making notes of potential combinations in my sketchbook, alongside the paint swatch, I felt another piece of the puzzle click into place for me. Purple was an elegant, classic color, yet could be playful as well.

I decided that I really liked the concept of using purple, but I had to make it more meaningful, somehow. Maybe use it as a metaphor for something. I didn't think that Professor Aro would be overly generous in his final critique of my work if I used purple merely as a unifying color scheme. He was always trying to get at something deeper, something hidden away. He liked surprises if they made him think, or if they were useful to him somehow. He despised whimsy. Although I did not particularly like his personality, which I found to be smarmy and condescending, I did respect his opinion when it came to art. He could be a rude, arrogant bastard, but some of my best work had evolved under his tutelage.

When I finally emerged from the cocoon of my studio, I was surprised to see how dark the evening had become. Late fall was one of my least favorite seasons. Not only did the decreasing daylight become more noticeable, but everywhere I looked, I saw dull brown. The colorful leaves of early autumn were gone, exposing the naked branches of the trees. Once-vibrant shrubs looked dead in their dormancy. Even the grass began turning brown. Not until the first real snowfall would the landscape begin to cast its spell over me again, when the velvety cushion of snow erased the brown blemishes of fall. Well, at least until the snowplows arrived and shoved mud-covered slush everywhere.

I returned to the dorm, and after stowing my gear in my room, headed upstairs to see Bella. I was disappointed when no one answered the door, and hoped it meant that she was feeling well enough to go outside, rather than curling up with hangover pain in her bed. Just as I was finishing writing a quick note on her dry-erase board, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.

Tanya had seen me and began to saunter down the hallway toward me.

"Edward," she purred. "We don't see much of you up here anymore. Except for quite recently, it seems. How are you?"

Her words were laced with honey, and I instinctively backed away.

"Hey, Tanya. I was looking for Rose and Bella. Have you seen them?"

"Mm-mm," she shook her head slowly, and licked her lips. Her hand came up and trailed up my arm, her fingers tickling the neckline of my t-shirt.

"Tanya, don't." I carefully removed her hand from my shirt, not in the mood to deal with her flirtations, especially when she began to pout.

"But Edward," she cooed softly, "you can't deny that there is an attraction between us. What happened last year – well, let's just say that the timing wasn't right for us. I still think that we could have some fun together."

I grabbed some hair near the nape of my neck and tugged nervously, wondering how to say what I needed to without insulting her. "Tanya, you're a gorgeous girl, but I guess I think of you as… I dunno, a sister, maybe. Fooling around last year just cemented that for me." I took a deep breath and continued. "I like you, but I'm attracted to someone else."

I noticed that her eyes darted quickly to Bella's message board before resting back on my own.

"So, that really is no, then, isn't it?" she asked quietly.

"I'm sorry, Tanya. But yeah, that's really a no."

I hated to see that look of raw disappointment flash briefly on her face, so I tried to lighten the mood.

"Come on, Denali, it's not like you don't have your pick of guys on campus." I leaned toward her and smirked, "You're practically a succubus, you know."

She tossed her strawberry-blonde hair with her trademark attitude. "Damn straight, Cullen. But why it didn't work on you, I'll never know. Still, if little miss meek-mouse isn't enough for you, you know where to find me." She winked, then sashayed back down the hall to her room.

I didn't see Bella at all that night, or even the next day. My meeting with Professor Aro went surprisingly well, and he actually seemed impressed by the amount of work I showed him. I had hoped to meet Bella after her French class and maybe get lunch together, but Aro kept me there for longer than I had expected, and I missed her departure from class.

I didn't yet know her schedule of classes, and intended to remedy that as quickly as I could. I wanted her to start modeling for me as soon as possible, but I had to work around her class and study times.

_Shit. Next week is midterms. I probably won't get much of a chance to see her at all. She's probably got tons of papers to write._

My suspicions were confirmed that night when I went up to her dorm room again.

"Nope, she's not here," Rosalie said in a bored voice. "She's at the library."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks, Rose." I turned and began to exit the room.

"Hey, Edward – don't worry, I'm sure you'll be seeing her real soon."

Puzzled, I looked back at Rosalie, who remained silent, yet gave the distinct impression of a cat who just ate the canary.

_Huh. I wonder what that was all about._

Tuesdays were my hell-days. My first class began at eight a.m., and my Independent Study ended at nine p.m., with classes and private studio time competing for my attention in between. I had been pretty good this term about attending my late afternoon classes, but now that I had found my muse, I was more tempted than ever to just skip class and stay holed up in my studio.

Instead I was able to figure out a way to combine the two. I made sure to include my camera in my backpack, so that I could take candid, surreptitious photos of Bella, while at the same time I guiltlessly skipped my Digital Aesthetics class.

Unfortunately, because I still didn't know her class schedule, I had a hard time tracking her down. In between classes, I staked out both Beckman and Porter Halls, the centers for literature and languages, respectively, as well as the library. No luck. I resolved to track her down tonight and ask her once and for all, so that I didn't have to waste my time again.

I had a quick dinner in my studio so that I didn't have to endure the cacophony of voices in the dining hall. I had no problem being alone and often sought out solitude and quiet.

Eventually I took a break from my painting to glance at the time, and was shocked to see that my Independent Study class had started thirty minutes ago. I contemplated skipping it again, but because I didn't go at all last week, I should probably make an appearance. Besides, I was starting to feel cooped up in my little studio and wanted to stretch my legs a little.

I locked up and walked downstairs to the second floor of the Studio Arts Building. At least I didn't have to go outside this time. When I pushed open the studio door, I was confronted by a large partition, almost like a giant folding screen. I knew from experience that the model would be set up on the other side, with the students fanned out around the room, to give the model some sense of privacy from whoever entered the room.

I could hear music playing, a haunting jazz melody reminiscent of Billie Holiday.

_I've got to ask Zafrina who's singing. I like that voice._

Walking around the partition, I saw Zafrina, the TA, quietly speaking to one of the students. When she saw me come in, her eyebrows shot up in surprise before she smiled warmly and walked over to me.

"Eduardo, _meu gostosão_, where have you been?" She put her hands on her hips and affectionately scolded me in her deep, husky voice, layered with a thick Brazilian Portuguese accent. "I was beginning to think that you weren't coming back."

Zafrina was an exotic beauty, close in mind to what I always imagined an Amazonian warrior-princess to look like – long legs, mocha skin, straight black hair, and fierce, deep brown eyes lightened with humor. She and I had a comfortable, flirtatious relationship. We had neither gone out nor hooked up, yet we enjoyed a mischievous banter together. It was fun to flirt without having any expectations on either side. Besides, her boyfriend Sérgio would probably make mincemeat out of me if I tried anything serious.

She motioned me over to an empty easel. "You're lucky tonight. We have a new model, so maybe you won't be bored this time."

"Zafrina, how could I be bored when I could always just draw you?" I murmured wickedly.

She rolled her eyes and then shook her head at me. "Eduardo, you are like the devil. It is too easy for you to get what you want."

I put my hand over my heart, feigning hurt, but could not keep the mirth from my eyes. We grinned at each other before she walked away, leaving me to set up.

I quickly glanced at the model and saw that she was reclined on her stomach, facing away from the class, so we had a beautiful view of her back and ass. Zafrina was right; this model was indeed a refreshing change from Rosalie, our regular model. Rosalie was certainly beautiful, but also had that ice-queen attitude. I sometimes wondered if she was trying to prove some sort of point, but whether to herself, or to others, I had no idea.

As I started to focus more intently on my drawing, I realized that the model was in a really boring, static pose. It was reminiscent of the poses that self-conscious new models favored. Why would Zafrina allow that? This Independent Study was for advanced art majors and grad students, not a training ground for model wannabes. The newbies were usually given to the low-level art classes.

I managed to reign in my irritation. Really, why should I care if we have a brand-new model tonight? The purpose of this class was to get us out of our routine and try something new, and I had already done that by choosing pastels instead of my normal oil paints.

Looking at the model again, I began to lightly sketch her outline. Her back was smooth and blemish-free, and so translucent that I could faintly see the pattern of her veins. I imagined that my fingers were really rubbing her pale ivory skin, and not just the pigment into the paper.

I didn't normally react so physically to a model, which piqued my curiosity. I wondered if I would feel this way when Bella modeled for me. My cock twitched merely at the thought of seeing her naked before me, on display.

I nearly groaned out loud; I couldn't think about Bella like that right now. There was no way I wanted the whole class to see my enormous hard-on. Everyone would naturally assume that I was turned on by tonight's model. Granted, her body _was_ gorgeous, and any guy who claimed never to have had a boner during figure-drawing class was either lying or gay, but still – having an average hard-on was a far cry from the Mr. Hyde who emerged whenever I thought of Bella.

Closing my eyes to concentrate, I started a stream-of-consciousness thread in my mind to help make some room in the front of my jeans.

_Okay, the model is pretty, but… I bet she has a boring name. Something like… Wilma. Heh, Wilma Flintstone. What a shrew she was. I definitely liked Betty Rubble better. But NOT when Rosie O'Donnell played her in that movie. God, was she miscast! I bet Bella would have been smokin' hot in that part, though. Mmm, she would look awesome in that tiny blue dress. I wouldn't mind going all Caveman on her… _

_Fuck! This is NOT helping!_

Changing tactics, I desperately tried to think of something, _anything_, to kill Mr. Hyde in my pants and turn him back into my familiar Dr. Jekyll.

_Lunch ladies. A lunch lady with huge boobs hanging down to her waist. With the knot of the hairnet echoing the hairy mole on her cheek. She was swarthy, with perspiration stains under her arms, and had a thick uni-brow. And…a distinct mustache on her upper lip. Her shocking pink fingernails curved like talons on the ends of her sausage-like fingers, which clutched a ladle full of thick, grayish, lumpy gruel…_

Okay, erection tamed. However, now I wanted to hurl.

I returned to my drawing with a more pronounced detachment. I could do this. I had never had such difficulty maintaining objectivity before, and I was damned if I was going to start now.

_Think… clinical. Parts are parts. It's just flesh. You've seen it all before. Move on. Think like a doctor. _

_Yeah, the LOVE Doctor. I'd play doctor with Bella._

_NOT HELPING!_

_God, I am so screwed._

I gave up. All of my thoughts reverted back to Bella, no matter what I did. I might as well just accept that and go on, and be thankful that my stiffie did not physically interfere with my ability to draw.

I took a deep, calming breath, exhaled, and studied the figure before me as passively as I was able.

Her buttocks were small and firm; the curve of her thighs and calves shapely. Her knees were bent and her ankles crossed innocently, her tiny feet gently bouncing to the beat of whatever music she was listening to on her iPod.

For a moment I actually felt the guilty adrenaline of a Peeping Tom, and yet I was transfixed by this girl's anonymous loveliness. I wished I could see her face, shrouded as it was by her long, thick hair. It suddenly occurred to me why I felt more voyeuristic than usual about this model – she reminded me of Bella. Same thick, chestnut brown hair. Same luscious curves. Same ivory skin.

My mind started to reel at the implications.

_Uh-uh, no way. It can't be. Can it?_

Bella couldn't _really_ be tonight's model, could she? I mean, she all but freaked out when I asked her to model for me in private. How could she then turn around and be ready to pose nude in front of a whole class?

Convinced that I was mistaken, I continued with my drawing until Zafrina walked over to the model near the end of class to hand her her bathrobe. The girl took the earbuds out of her ears and slowly sat up, keeping her back to the class.

I averted my eyes, wanting to give the girl some scrap of privacy while she transitioned from a nameless mannequin into a private person again. When I finally looked up, my breath caught and my eyes widened from the shock of the vision before me.

Bella Swan was wrapped in a bathrobe, staring back in horror at me.

**End notes:**

Um, I meant no offense to any actual lunch ladies out there in the fandom. My own Gramma used to be a lunch lady, and I'd like to think that she'd be able to see the humor involved. I mean, she DID have the appropriate boobs for the job…

I have to send a big shout-out to **HopeReborn**, who so graciously helped me come up with the correct term of endearment for Zafrina to say to Edward. "Gostosão" is Portuguese for "hottie". Duh! (And thank you also for the suggestion of Sérgio, as well as the reminder that Brazilian Portuguese is very different from European Portuguese!)

HopeReborn is also writing a fic, titled **_Rising Star_**, so let him know that _mlbd_ sent you! It is a Leah Clearwater fic, with a really cool twist. Here's his link: www**FANFICTION**net/s/5772429/1/Rising_Star

Speaking of recs, have you seen that **_When Fiction Becomes Reality_** by BITTENEV has updated? Oh man, I actually stood up at my desk and did a little happy dance when I saw the email! Here is the link in case you have not read this fabulous fic yet: www**FANFICTION**net/s/4705709/1/

The music playing in the studio when Edward arrives is _Dance Me To The End of Love_, by Madeleine Peyroux.

Thank you for reading my little piece of fluff, and please review!

(This fic is posted on **FANFICTION**net, **TWILIGHTED**net, **THEWRITERSCOFFEESHOP**com, and **GIGGLESNORT**net)


	10. Chapter 10: What Do You Want From Me?

**Chapter notes:**

I am the author that your fanfiction bestie warned you about. You know – I start off strong, updating fairly regularly, then I fizzle out. Yup, that's me, but I own it, because real life has to come first, ya know? So without further ado, here is chapter ten of my slowly evolving tale. See you down below!

**_Disclaimer:_ Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and the characters therein. No copyright infringement is intended. The intellectual property including, but not limited to, all characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to _mylittlebakersdozen_. No copying or reproduction of this work in any language is permitted without express written authorization of the author. Thank you!**

**Chapter 10: What Do You Want From Me?**

**BPOV**

When Rosalie dropped that bombshell on me that I'd have to fill in for her as a model, I knew there was no way I'd be able to back out. I had no evening classes, so I didn't have a convenient excuse to give. After I had boldly called her bluff, I asked her what I could expect, and what I'd be required to do. I thought I was pretty calm about it, but she had had the gall to laugh at me.

"You're not going to be working in a strip club, Bella. Jeez! You need to relax. It's all very professional. Zafrina, the TA, will instruct you into a pose, and you'll probably stay in that pose for the duration, depending on what the students are working on. Feel free to bring your iPod and just zone out. It's actually pretty relaxing."

_Yeah, right. Because having a dozen pairs of eyes scrutinizing all my lady bits is always my favorite way to unwind._

"Bella, quit the eye-rolling. It's immature, and besides, you've already agreed to do this. They've all seen nude women before, so just get over yourself already."

She paused to adjust the pillows under her ankle before continuing. "If it makes it any easier for you, remember that they won't even see you as a person. You'll just be a piece of meat."

I had to hand it to her – Rosalie definitely knew how to spin an argument, even if I didn't agree with her. However, now my imagination got carried away, as I thought about my body arranged artfully on a silver platter with a shiny red apple in my mouth. I couldn't decide which animal's flesh I would be, though – a sacrificial lamb, or a slab of tuna? Either seemed appropriate for this instance. Maybe a sacrificial tuna?

"What is it?" she asked, after I still hadn't said anything. "You don't have your period or something, do you?"

If only I could have used that as an excuse, but the consequences of my decision to model became apparent to me on my way to do the deed. I would have to be naked, completely - goosebumps, knobby knees, cellulite dimples on my ass, the whole nine yards. I would be on display for strangers who would be analyzing me, critiquing me, studying me without compassion. Like Rosalie had said, I was going to be nothing more than a piece of flesh.

I remembered the nicknames I had created for the models in my own drawing class: Glamazon, Wookie, Pleasantly Plump. What would these students nickname me? Would they be cruel or kind? Would I even want to know?

_Oh, God._

Luckily I had had enough time to jump in the shower and quickly shave, although if I hadn't been so nervous I probably wouldn't have done such a hack job on my legs. In addition to all my girlie bits, the students would now be able to gaze at the lovely Band-Aids adorning my legs - one on each ankle and another on my shin.

Actually, the gouge on my shin had required _two_ Band-Aids, and it still stung. Maybe one of the ankle slashes had clotted by now and I could remove at least that bandage before class. My shin, however, would eventually sport a beautiful scab and then probably a scar. Next time I'd have to wax.

_Oh, God. NEXT time? _

I wondered how many classes I would have to model for before Rosalie was able to return. Maybe six weeks? I could get through six classes. Maybe.

_Well, it's too late to back out now, sweetheart. You wanted to prove to yourself you could do this._

I opened the studio door and walked inside, relieved that I had arrived early. Zafrina was expecting me, thanks to a text from Rosalie, and warmly gave me my instructions. Within a few minutes, I was in a surprisingly modest pose on my stomach, listening to my iPod and enjoying the warmth of the portable heaters around me. I closed my eyes and tried really hard to pretend that I was sunbathing on the beach in Florida with my mom.

A light touch on my shoulder roused me from my daydreams, alerting me that class was over. I removed my earbuds and lifted my head to see Zafrina smiling down at me and holding my bathrobe out wide. She was mindful of my modesty, for which I was grateful. It may have seemed silly, considering I had just spent the last two hours naked, but her thoughtfulness made it easier for me to sit up and become Bella again.

I wrapped the bathrobe ties around my waist and took a deep breath, smiling to myself. I did it! I actually went through with it!

Now that I was no longer listening to loud music, I could hear the sounds of students chatting and rustling their sketch pads behind me. My heart started to race. I knew that I had to turn around and retrieve my backpack so that I could change, but that meant likely seeing people and having them see me.

Well, duh. But why was I panicking now? I was almost more embarrassed now, while in a bathrobe and modestly covered, than I was when I was unclothed. How was that possible?

I decided to over-analyze everything later, in the security of my fleece bed sheets, and just get this over with. Holding my head up, I turned around, only to see _him_ standing before me, next to an easel, holding a large piece of paper in his hands.

I was…_completely_…speechless…

…_Edward…?_

…_Why is he here…?_

I pulled the bathrobe tighter around myself and then suddenly realized with crystal clarity what had just taken place.

_Oh, my God! Edward Cullen just saw me naked! He has been staring at my naked ass for the last two hours! I have to get out of here!_

Without another thought, I immediately turned around, jumped over someone's bag, and skidded around the edge of the partition to get the hell out of there. I ran down the hallway, straight to the restroom where I had changed prior to class. I rushed into the handicapped stall at the back, locked the door and sank down onto the cold, tiled floor. My horror knew no bounds. I was stupefied with shame and self-consciousness.

_What am I going to do now? I can't go back out there. _

_Shit! My clothes! _

They were in my backpack back in the studio.

_Oh, well. I'll just stay in here until everyone leaves the building and then sneak back in to get dressed. _

I didn't care how long I had to stay in the bathroom – anything was preferable to going out that door and possibly seeing _him_ again.

Curled up in a ball, with my arms wrapped around my knees, I jerked my head up in fright when I heard the door open and Zafrina's rich voice call out to me.

"Bella? Are you in here?

"Yes," I squeaked.

"Are you alright? Are you sick? I saw you run out of the studio, and you looked so pale. Can I call someone for you?"

I took a deep breath, thankful that Zafrina had unwittingly given me an alibi for my embarrassing behavior.

"No, thank you, Zafrina. I'll be okay. It's just…my nerves go into overdrive, sometimes. I'll be fine in a few minutes."

"Okay," she replied, sounding a little confused. "Would you like me to bring your clothes in here for you?"

I exhaled in relief, unaware until then that I had been holding my breath, waiting for her to leave. "Yes, please. That would be a huge help. Thank you, Zafrina."

The restroom door opened and closed yet again, and I was once again bathed in the silence of my thoughts. I closed my eyes and continued to hug my knees, trying to remember if Rosalie had said anything about Edward being in this class.

No, I clearly would have remembered _that_. She must have done this on purpose, then.

But why? Why would she do something like that? She knew this wasn't going to be easy for me.

I gently snorted with wry amusement. _Yeah, just two hours ago my sole fear was merely being looked at by _strangers_, never mind walking jaw-porn. _

So here I was, sitting on the cold tile floor of the women's restroom, waiting for Zafrina to bring me my clothes so I could make the ultimate walk of shame back to my dorm room.

_Oh, shit! The dorm! _

I swear I couldn't escape that guy. Even if I was able to bypass him in the hallway tonight, Edward and I still shared the same dorm. I was bound to see him soon regardless.

Could this night possibly get any worse?

Before I was able to spiral down into a deeper funk, Zafrina came back. "How are you now, Bella? Feeling better?"

She waited outside the stall as I unlocked the door, then handed me my backpack while scrutinizing my face.

"Bella, you are still so pale. Are you sure you are alright?"

I nodded and answered her softly. "Yeah, I'm always really pale. It's normal for me. And I'm a little cold, so getting dressed should help as well. Thanks again for your help."

"Mmhm," was all Zafrina said, looking as if she wanted to ask me more questions. Apparently my alibi wasn't as convincing as I had hoped it would be.

She was waiting for me when I finally left the stall, leaning against one of the sinks with her arms crossed. I wasn't afraid of her, but I certainly didn't know what to make of her. Was she mad at me? Did I break something when I ran out of the room? Had I offended her somehow?

I stood nervously by the wall, waiting to see what was on her mind. I didn't have to wait long.

"Bella."

My eyes quickly met hers before my embarrassment took over and I had to look away again.

She sighed and started again. "I need to know if you will be able to come back next week, or if I have to find yet another model."

"Oh." That was probably the last thing I was expecting to hear her say. "Um, I don't know. I guess so. I've already promised Rosalie I would, so…"

Zafrina cracked a knowing smile. "Yes, she can be rather persuasive. If you don't mind my asking, how do you know her?"

It was my turn to give a rueful smile. "Rosalie is my roommate. And if I chickened out on this, I'd never hear the end of it, let alone find a safe hiding spot in the dorm again."

She merely raised one eyebrow in response, nodded, and turned to leave the restroom.

"That reminds me," she said, turning back to face me. "Do you know Edward Cullen?"

My eyes widened with anxiety and I gave a quick nod.

"Well, he's waiting just outside the door for you. He said that you two live in the same dorm, and he wanted to make sure that you were alright and got home okay."

My mouth opened, but all that came out was a squeak. I closed my eyes and started to softly bang my head against the wall.

Of course he was waiting for me. I should have known better than to think that I'd be able to escape from here without him seeing me.

"Bella? What's wrong?" Zafrina sounded truly concerned now. She glanced toward the door. "Is it Edward? I know he can be a terrible flirt, but he really is a good person."

How could I explain this? I gulped and took a deep breath before speaking. "No, I know he's a good guy. I know he wouldn't hurt me. I guess…I guess I'm just…embarrassed, is all. I didn't know he would be in this class."

"Yes, I understand," Zafrina smiled. "It can be difficult to model nude, especially in front of people you know."

I nodded, grateful for her compassion.

Zafrina's eyes suddenly glinted with mischief. "You were a good model tonight, Bella. Edward certainly seemed inspired."

She smirked and left the restroom, leaving me open-mouthed with surprise.

I did not want to analyze her statement; nothing good could surely come of it. Instead, I had a much more pressing dilemma to deal with – Edward himself. Zafrina had said that he was just outside the door, waiting for me. Did he revel in my embarrassing mishaps? I couldn't figure him out and why he always seemed to pop up unexpectedly.

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I looked one last time in the mirror before leaving the sanctuary of the women's restroom. My calm visage did not reflect the turmoil raging in my belly and head. Instead, my cheeks were faintly flushed and my eyes sparkled with …fear? ...excitement? ...nervousness?

_Ugh. Ever since Edward walked into my life, I have been such a basket case. Time to start redefining myself. I can do this. I can do this. I _have_ to do this._

I took a deep breath and continued my silent chant as I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.

Edward was leaning against the wall, one leg tucked up behind him, with his hands in his pockets. His shaggy hair flopped into his eyes while he seemed to be studying the floor at his feet. At my approach he slowly lifted his head, and his gaze was one of pure concern.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," I replied, just as quietly.

Neither of us spoke for a moment, and I suddenly found myself overcome with shyness.

"Are you okay?" He broke the silence without moving closer to me, as if he knew that I would act like a terrified rabbit and bolt.

"Yeah."

More silence. I don't think either of us knew what to say anymore.

"Umm," he began as he fisted his bronze hair anxiously. "Um, I have to, uh…well, I want to, uh…aw, hell."

The way he scrubbed his face in frustration would almost have been comical if I hadn't been so nervous myself. He almost acted as if _he_ was nervous about something, but I couldn't understand what he would need to feel nervous for. I was the one who had exposed my ass crack to the class, for Pete's sake.

Edward seemed to steel himself and began again. "Bella, I'd really like to walk you back to the dorm, but first I need to return my stuff to my studio. Would you…want to come up with me?"

Did I? I thought I had wanted to run away and hide. Now, however, I was starting to reconsider. How could this guy have such control over my emotions? No wonder I've been such a basket case. I can't seem to control anything anymore when I'm around him.

As I was considering my options, a movement from the corner of my eye distracted my attention. I saw a man leave the classroom, and when he turned my way I could see that it was James.

_James?_

My mind screeched in panic.

_Oh, my God, James was in that class? _

He caught my eye, and like a mouse trapped by the stare of a cobra, I was unable to look away. He grinned, raised his eyebrows, and intentionally adjusted the front of his jeans. He then nodded to me as if to say thanks, and proceeded to stroll down the hallway away from me.

"Bella?" Edward followed my gaze but quickly turned back to me. "Bella, what's wrong?"

"Uhh," was all I could manage, still watching James' retreating figure.

"Bella, you're trembling." Edward's voice was now laced with worry. "Tell me what's wrong."

Instead of answering him, I just kept shaking my head and mumbling. "No, not him, no."

Edward started to get more upset. "Did that guy hurt you or something? What's going on? Please tell me!"

He moved over into my line of sight and gently cupped his warm hands around my face, forcing me to look up at him.

"Bella, what's going on?"

I didn't know if it was the shock of his hands on me, or the relief I felt knowing that James had gone, or the feeling of utter safety I felt while in Edward's presence, but when I looked up into his worried face and furrowed brows, my mind simply shut off.

I reached my hands up, pulled his face to mine and kissed him. Edward gave a little start and then I could feel his smile. He kept his hands on my cheeks and began to kiss me back, slowly at first, and then with more urgency. I felt his tongue caress my bottom lip and I opened my mouth for him, delighting in his taste and warmth.

Time stood still. The earth stopped rotating. A nuclear blast could have exploded and I wouldn't have noticed it. There was only him.

He moaned softly in the back of his throat and gently broke off our kiss with another little chaste peck before resting his forehead on mine.

"Mmm," he murmured. "I've wanted to do that since the first moment I saw you."

"Yeah?" I asked with a shy little grin. "Really?"

"Mmhm. Really."

Edward smiled and pulled slightly away so we could see each other better. My eyes fluttered closed as he slowly stroked his thumbs across my cheeks. I felt – cherished.

When I opened them again, however, my panic began to flare in the pit of my stomach once more. Edward's countenance was again worried, and his gaze flickered between both of my eyes, as if trying to decipher a particularly complex problem.

"But…," he breathed while closing his eyes and scrunching up his face in frustration.

My eyes widened – this was it. I knew I had overstepped the bounds.

_How could I have been so dumb? No way was I going back to share Rosalie's room now. In fact, I think I'll just transfer to the state college back home. Charlie wouldn't mind. It'll be cheaper, and I'll be closer to him. He never did like the fact that I was all the way across the country. With my GPA, I'd have no trouble getting accepted. Granted, their Comp Lit department was sorely lacking, but so what? I'd still have a respectable degree as well as my dignity. I wonder how soon I could pull off a transfer. Would I have to wait until the semester ended to start the process? I need to make an appointment with my advisor._

Edward's voice cut through my inner ramblings and I blinked, trying to focus on him without actually looking at him. My mind always turned to mush when I looked at him, and right now I needed to stay strong.

"But …," he repeated. "Your mood swings are kinda giving me whiplash. I never know where I stand with you. One minute you're shy and blushing, the next minute you're pissed off at me, then you go ahead and kiss me – not that I'm complaining, because I'd kiss you all day if you'd let me," he insisted with a grin before lowering both his eyes and his voice. "But you're kind of the master of mixed signals. I really like you, but I don't know what you want from me."

I gulped hard to keep the tears at bay. I had royally screwed this all up.

"And Bella, what were you doing modeling in there tonight?" he whispered with concern. "And what was up with that guy in the hallway? What did he do to you that frightens you so much?"

I bit my lip, unsure where to start.

"Bella, please talk to me," Edward pleaded.

I looked up at him and finally nodded.

"Okay," I croaked. "Can we go up to your studio?"

**End notes:**

Go ahead, fling those rotten tomatoes at me. I've got my paintball mask on. HA HA HA!

Seriously, I thought that these two would have a bit more romance for their first kiss, but that's not how it wanted to be written. Damn these two and their angsty issues! I promise that real romance will show up next. You guys are so darn patient with me already that it's the least I could do!

So here I would like to say my sincerest **_THANK YOU_** to the dozen or so readers who have stayed with me! Seriously, I think there _really_ are only about a dozen of you…

And to my sweet, sweet beta girl, Idealistic4ever: Girlie, I love your red ink. But I also adore your snorting laughter. Hee hee!

Somehow, someone nominated me and my fic in the Sunflower Awards. I know my chances of winning anything is slim, but I'm psyched nonetheless! There are SO MANY amazing fics nom'd over there, and I've only read a fraction of them! Even if you don't vote, definitely go over there to add to your reading list. Here's the link: http:/thesunflowerawards(dot)blogspot(dot)com/

**_Thank you_** for reading, and **_Happy Mother's Day _**to all the moms out there (your "kids" can be human, canine, feline, avian, even dust bunnies!)!


	11. Chapter 11: Louis and Elvis

Well, slap my ass and call me Sally! An update!

I truly do not know what to say other than **THANK****YOU** to all the new readers who have put this fic on alert and/or have sent me a review. After I posted that last chapter, I received nearly 200 new alerts – in only one week! Wow! I am amazed and completely humbled.

And **THANK****YOU** to my loyal, patient readers for sticking by me even though I don't update as often as I know you would like. From now on I will no longer assume that I only have a dozen readers. **smacks forehead in shame** You know what they say about assuming things….

In case anyone is interested, my hometown of Hartford, Vermont (and surrounding region) was severely affected by Hurricane Irene in August. My family was lucky and did not sustain any damage (we live on higher ground), however many homes , businesses and bridges close to the White River were either destroyed or inundated with as much as five feet of thick mud and silt.

While most of the major clean-up and recovery has been accomplished, many people are still without homes and/or heat, power, etc. As I write this at the end of October, most of the leaves are already down and nights are becoming increasingly cold (32F/0C) and we've even had our first snowfall already. I don't have my electric mattress pad out yet, but I will soon! My town's local homeless shelter has become the central resource for recovery aid in our region, and they expect the need to pick back up as more people realize they and their homes are not prepared to withstand the winter weather.

If you would like to help by donating something, the info is on my profile. Thank you for considering this!

My heart and prayers go out to all the people affected by the devastating earthquake in Turkey as well as the horrible flooding in Bangkok.

But enough depressing world news! Let's get to the happy stuff! Here's the story already!

**_Disclaimer:_ Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and the characters therein. No copyright infringement is intended. The intellectual property including, but not limited to, all characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to _mylittlebakersdozen_. No copying or reproduction of this work in any language is permitted without express written authorization of the author. Thank you!**

Chapter 11: Louis and Elvis

**BPOV**

Edward and I walked quietly back into the classroom to gather up his art supplies. We were alone in the large room, as Zafrina and the rest of the class had already departed. Rather than feeling relieved, however, I almost wished that someone else was nearby to minimize the awkwardness I felt.

The silence between us stretched and crackled, nearly taking on a life of its own. Mutely I watched as he efficiently packed up his drawing pad and pastels, and even though I was curious about what exactly he had drawn, now was not the time to ask for a show-and-tell session.

We walked down the hallway toward the stairwell, the only sounds apparent were our footsteps and the soft buzz of the fluorescent lights. We arrived at the doorway to his studio and Edward glanced at me before inserting his key into the lock. He motioned for me to enter before him and once I was past the threshold, he flicked the light switch on and gently closed the door.

The butterflies in my stomach were starting to gang up on me again and I nervously started stretching my fingers back.

Edward awkwardly cleared his throat and asked, "Um, why don't you have a seat?"

I sat down in the same armchair I had last time I was in here, only this time I was even less relaxed and fidgeted more. I tried to keep still by pressing my hands between my knees, but I found I couldn't even look up at him. Instead I glanced around the small room, and was startled by the volume of work I saw around me. The last time I was here, merely a few days ago, the studio had been disorganized but fairly empty in terms of artwork. Now, however, I saw multiple sketches of my likeness covering the walls, and several large empty canvases stacked up in the corner. Edward had been busy.

While I was looking around, Edward fiddled with his stereo and soon a quiet melody filled the air. I cocked my head a bit to the side, trying to place it.

"Uh, it's Debussey," Edward admitted. He seemed a little apologetic.

Hearing him say the composer's name sparked my memory, and I finally looked up him and smiled. "No, _Clair__de__lune_ – it's great." My mom loved this piece of piano music and would play her CD of it frequently. I hadn't heard it in a few years and closed my eyes, fondly remembering dancing with her in the living room, the two of us giggling like little girls and really hamming it up. When the music finally ended, I opened my eyes and saw Edward mirroring my own smile.

"Any requests?" he asked softly.

Still smiling, I shook my head. "Not really. More of the same would be great, though."

He turned back to his music collection and inserted another disc into the player. The music filled the void and erased what remained of our awkwardness. The lack of spoken words now seemed insignificant and comfortable. I relaxed into the old armchair and took a deep breath. Edward continued to putter about behind me, and I soon discovered what he was up to. Carrying two steaming mugs, he offered me one with a shy smile.

I looked curiously at the metal thingy inside the cup and gently inhaled the hot liquid's aroma, not recognizing it.

Edward chuckled softly and answered my unspoken question. "It's jasmine tea. Green tea leaves with jasmine blossoms. The mesh strainer holds the loose tea leaves, so please don't squeeze it, or else the leaves will end up loose in your mug and the tea will get very bitter."

I carefully took a sip, not wanting to burn my tongue, and was pleasantly surprised by the taste. "This is really good. Thank you."

Edward dipped his head down and nodded, trying not to smile too widely. He then walked over to the wall across from me and sat down against it, stretching his long legs out in front of him. Because the room was so small, the soles of his Doc Martens were only a few feet away from me. I studied the pattern of wear on the treads, wondering where those boots had taken him.

We quietly sipped our tea, occasionally meeting each other's gaze before quickly looking away.

Finally he could take no more and mischievously cocked his eyebrow at me. "So – about that 800-pound gorilla in the room…."

Gah! I really didn't want to talk about this with him, but I knew I had no choice. Was I nineteen or nine? It was time to put on the big-girl panties and act like the adult I was.

"Yeah," I started. "About that."

I took another sip of tea before proceeding to tell him all about Rosalie's decision to "volunteer" me for modeling duty. To his credit, he remained silent, allowing me time to choose my words. My discomfort must have been obvious, but he never commented on it.

At one point I saw him shake his head and chuckle, and called him out on it.

"Well," he ruminated, "some of her behavior makes a little more sense to me now, after hearing your story."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, did she ever tell you that I stopped by your room several times last week?"

My surprise must have been obvious, because Edward chuckled again. "Apparently not. Anyways, she made some oblique remark about how I would be seeing you soon and not to worry about it. It seems that she meant tonight, with your modeling."

I didn't know whether to feel embarrassed or pissed off – I think I was a little bit of both. Rosalie's interference in my life was unacceptable.

"What's the deal with her?" I asked. "I mean, you obviously know her better than I do, seeing as your brother is dating her, so what gives? Is she always like this?"

Edward grimaced a bit and tugged the hair on the back of his head. "Let's just say that Rosalie is very…protective. She and Emmett have been dating since high school, so she's practically family for all intents and purposes." He took another sip of tea and seemed to gather his thoughts. "My guess is that she's testing you, to see if you fit in."

"Fit in? What business is it of hers?"

"I could be wrong, of course. I'm only guessing. But even if I'm right, that doesn't mean that I agree with her or her methods."

I sat still, stewing over his words while I continued to drink the cooling tea.

_Testing me? For what? And what in the world was she trying to get me to fit into? _

My irrational insecurities about being the only ugly girl in Arnason Hall quickly jumped to mind, but I quickly disregarded them. No one could be _that_ petty. Could they?

Edward was watching me closely while I pondered his words. "What are you thinking about, Bella? I see so many different emotions running across your face. I wish I could read your mind, just to keep up with you."

I shrugged. "Yeah, my mom always called me her open-book, because she always knew when I was trying to bluff my way out of something. Speaking of which, don't ever ask me to play poker!"

We grinned at each other until I had to look down, summoning the courage to ask him the questions swirling around in my head.

"Why do you think she's testing me? For what? Do I have to be like Miss America just to room with her, or something like that?"

Edward snarfed a bit of his tea and started coughing, a big smile gracing his handsome face.

"Uh, no, nothing like that. I _hope_, at least!" He continued to grin at me when suddenly he seemed embarrassed. His hand had migrated to the back of his head to tug on his unruly hair. That awkward tell had become undeniably endearing. "Um, I think it has to do more with me than it does with you."

I cocked my eyebrow at him, gesturing with my hand for him to explain.

_Was Edward blushing? Oh, man, this has gotta be good!_

"Well, I don't date often, and Rose knows that, so my behavior lately has probably really piqued her interest."

Holding my breath, I waited for him to continue.

"Um, yeah," he said with another trademark tug. "I'm not usually the one who chases after a girl. They usually chase after me." His face contorted into a grimace. "God, that sounds so conceited. I just meant that no one has interested me enough to put any amount of real effort into it. Until now, of course."

He looked at me and smirked. My stomach did an Olympic-sized flip off the high-dive board and I could feel my face becoming hotter.

I gulped and whispered, "But why should Rosalie care?"

"Ahh, Rosalie. Well, I told you that she was protective. Maybe fiercely loyal would be a better way to describe her. Anyways, she hasn't had an easy upbringing, and when she and Emmett started dating, my folks kind of took her under their wing, so to speak. Her parents didn't care. They were off doing God knows what and were probably relieved that she wasn't in their way anymore. So Rose essentially adopted us as her family, and is leery of anyone else coming in and shaking up the dynamics. I know she can come off as an icy bitch, but she is one of the most tender-hearted, caring, generous people I've ever met."

Rosalie? Tender-hearted? I nearly snorted.

Edward continued his story. "I think she feels threatened by you. She sees how captivated I am by you, and probably doesn't want anything or anyone to endanger her sense of belonging, of security, with my family. That's why I think she was testing you with this modeling assignment. She probably wanted to see if you had the balls to go through with it."

I was flabbergasted. What in the world could have happened to Rosalie to make her act this way? When I tried to ask Edward that very question, he cut me off with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, but that's not my story to tell. Maybe if Rose trusts you enough one day, she'll tell you herself. Either way, it's in the past, and I wouldn't worry about it."

Shaking my head mutely, I just sat there, trying to absorb everything he had told me. I looked down at my cup and discovered that I had nearly finished my tea.

"Can I get you some more?" Edward's voice gently broke through my thoughts. I nodded and smiled.

"Yes, please. This is really good."

While he was making our second cups of tea, I stood up and stretched my legs, curious to poke about his studio a bit. The sketches tacked to one wall beckoned to me, and I was surprised to see how many different versions of myself I saw there. How long had he been watching me? In none of these drawings did it appear that I was aware of his observations.

His velvety voice interrupted my thoughts once more. "Mind if I change the music a bit, Bella?"

I hummed my agreement, still entranced by the surprisingly intimate sketches. A new song started to play softly in the background. I was momentarily startled when Edward silently walked up behind me, grasped my hand in his, and gently spun me around to face him.

"Dance with me," he whispered.

My heart beat a staccato rhythm just being this close to him. I placed my hand on his upper arm, marveling that I was actually caressing his bicep, and followed his lead as we started to sway. Only then did I notice the words to the song that was playing.

Heaven, I'm in heaven  
and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak  
And I seem to find the happiness I seek  
When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek

"Gotta love Louis Armstrong," Edward murmured. I was too self-conscious to look up at him, knowing that my regular blush would erupt like Mount Vesuvius and consume me if I dared to get lost in those eyes of his at such close range.

Oh, heaven, I'm in heaven  
and the cares that hung around me through the week  
Seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak  
When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek

We slowly moved about, and I squeaked out a surprised cry when Edward dipped me dramatically in time with the music.

"What?" he laughed as he righted me.

"I can't dance!" I spluttered between giggles.

"Hmm. Well, maybe you just never had the right partner before." Edward leaned in closer and murmured suggestively in my ear, "You seem to move just right to me."

_Knock me over with a feather, why don't you, Don Juan? _

His warm breath tickled my neck and I nearly jumped when I felt his velvety soft lips graze my skin, unleashing a flurry of goosebumps.

"Mmm," he hummed, making my insides melt even more than I thought possible. "You smell so sweet, like…flowers and fruit."

He trailed his nose and lips ever so softly up the shell of my ear and continued on to my temple, pausing minutely to caress my skin with a whisper of a kiss. I held my breath, too afraid to move for fear of breaking this magical spell I was under. Could he feel me trembling?

"Bella." My name on his lips was a whispered incantation, pregnant with the promise of adoration. I slowly opened my eyes to meet his, awed by the depth of feeling I saw within. His gaze dropped to my lips and my pulse picked up speed. Achingly slowly, completely opposite the way I attacked him outside the classroom, he brought his lips closer to mine until they met in a reverent embrace.

The tip of his tongue gently caressed my lips, politely requesting permission to explore further. I moaned softly, letting my instincts take over. We explored each other slowly, touching and tasting and learning one another.

I felt cherished, worshipped, adored.

Edward ended our kiss with a sweet, soft peck and rested his forehead on mine.

"Wow," he breathed.

"Yeah," I echoed.

We leaned back slightly to look at each other and both exhaled a breathy chuckle.

"That was…," I began.

"…perfect," he finished.

We grinned at each other, oblivious to just how sappy we were.

Edward trailed his hands down my arms, entwining his fingers with mine. I couldn't stop grinning – I was deliriously happy and the joy just bubbled out of me. He brought our hands up to his chest and let go in order to wrap his warm, strong arms tightly around me, leaving my little hands captive between us as he picked me up and slowly spun me around. He buried his face in my hair and breathed in deeply, sighing happily. I couldn't help the giggle that came out.

"What's so funny?" he murmured into my neck.

"Nothing," I squeaked happily.

"Nuh-uh, Bella. Spill." That caramel-coated husky voice made my insides quiver.

"Uh," I replied shakily, "I was just thinking that it was a good thing that I showered today." The abrupt stop to his worship of my hair made me giggle even harder.

"Oh, Bella, you really shouldn't have said that." His voice at my ear was teasing but deliciously intense, and I barely had a chance to register the desire flaring in my belly when I felt an explosive tickle along my ribs.

I shrieked out with laughter as his long fingers sought out and found all my ticklish spots. I tried to move away but he was too quick and too strong. Gasping for breath, I yelped out "Uncle!" before we collapsed onto the faded green armchair.

I found myself on his lap, encircled by his arms, and leaned in to kiss him on those yummy, scrummy lips. When we came up for air a second time, we relaxed into a comfortable snuggle and contentedly listened to the rest of the Louis Armstrong album.

"So, Bella." He cleared his throat nervously.

"Yes, Edward?" I mimicked with a little smirk, for he seemed so serious all of a sudden.

"Um, where do you…I mean, how… uh, what would you like from all this?"

"I'm sorry, Edward, but I don't understand."

He tugged on his bottom lip and shrugged. "Uh, what I mean is, did you just want to keep this casual, or what? I'd really like this to be long-term, but…." He paused to look at my bewildered expression. "I'm not proposing marriage or anything, but…."

My eyes must have bugged out of my head because he began to stumble over his words.

"…but I really like you and I'd really like to have a long-term relationship with you and not just a casual thing, but if that's not what you want then I'll understand…."

"Edward."

"…and I'll respect whatever decision you make but I thought you should know how I feel…."

"_Edward_."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up and kiss me, you dork."

~~~MS~MS~MS~MS~~~

"Okay, so now I know why you were modeling in that class. Can you tell me what was going on with that guy in the hallway?"

My body stiffened at the memory, and Edward responded by holding me tighter. We had stayed on the old armchair, snuggling and kissing whenever one of us felt the urge. Never before had I felt so safe or so cherished, and that feeling gave me the confidence to tell Edward about my uneasy acquaintance with James.

"Yeah. James. Where should I begin?" I asked rhetorically. "Well, we're in the same drawing class, to start with."

"Figure Drawing? Well, I suppose I'm not too surprised, actually," commented Edward disdainfully.

I pulled my head away from his chest to look up at him questioningly.

"Never mind right now," Edward murmured. "I'll explain later. Please, go on."

I merely quirked my eyebrow at him and then tried to recapture my train of thought.

"Well, as I was saying before I was so _rudely_ interrupted," I mock-scolded him, before giggling as his long fingers found a ticklish spot beneath my ribcage.

"Hey! Let a girl talk here!" I good-naturedly demanded. Edward gave me his best puppy-dog eyes and held up his hands in surrender.

"_Anyways_, James is in my morning drawing class, and he just creeps me out. He has asked me to model for his _special__project_," I emphasized with air quotes, "and he's really persistent. I told him I wasn't interested, but that hasn't stopped him. Just the way he looks at me…ugh!" I shivered. "He makes my skin crawl. He looks at me like I'm a piece of meat and he's a starving man. And then to know that he was in _there_, tonight, seeing me _naked_… I don't want him to know anything about me, least of all how I look with no clothes on!"

Edward just held me tighter and soothed me with little kisses on the top of my head. When he didn't say anything I had to ask. "What are you thinking?"

"I don't really know what to say, Bella. I don't know him well. In fact, he's only ever been in this one class with me, and to be honest I never gave him much thought. I would describe his work as barely mediocre. Not horrible, but definitely not good, either. And he does seem rather creepy. He certainly seems to be the type to take a figure drawing class for the sole reason of ogling naked girls."

Edward paused to nuzzle me for a moment. "I'll see what else I can find out about him, okay?"

I nodded against him and then suddenly sat up. "Edward! He has a studio here! He cornered me one day with a huge canvas that he was bringing in."

Edward's eyes narrowed. "That should make it a lot easier," he mumbled, and I wasn't sure if I was meant to hear that or not.

"Edward, be careful. He really seems to dislike you."

"But I don't even know him."

"Well, I mentioned to him that you were my friend, and he didn't seem to take that too well."

"Um, okay. Whatever. I'll keep that in mind, though."

The two of us were quiet, each apparently content to digest the latest information silently. My curiosity soon got the better of me, though, and I felt compelled to burst our little bubble.

"Hey, Edward?"

"Mmhmm?" he murmured into my hair.

"Can I see your drawings from class tonight?"

He slowly sat up straighter and looked directly at me. "Really?"

"Yeah," I smiled. "Of course, I can't guarantee that I won't run out of here screaming, but I _am_ curious."

"What? You doubt my ability? I'll have you know that I can paint _both_ velvet Elvises _and_ paint-by-numbers." He puffed up his chest, trying but failing to hide his grin.

Just the image of Edward painting Elvis on velvet caused me to laugh so hard that I started to snort.

"Oh my God," he guffawed. "I didn't think it was _that_ funny!"

When I finally had a chance to catch my breath I managed to sputter a defense. "It's just…," I giggled, "I pictured you… in a beret, with a paintbrush… standing by the Seine with your thumb stretched out in front of you…." His indignant eyebrow twitched and I could hold in my laughter no longer. "And the tip of your tongue was sticking out because you were concentrating so hard…," I laughed harder and tried to breathe again. "And you were working on your _masterpiece_, the ultimate velvet Elv…."

I was unable to finish my thought, though, because I couldn't breathe anymore from laughing so hard from his unrelenting ticklish fingers.

~~~MS~MS~MS~MS~~~

It was nearly midnight when we finally locked up his studio and ventured out into the inky black night. Hand in hand, we approached the main door to our dorm. Stopping briefly, Edward turned to look at me.

"Hey, Bella? You never did answer me before."

"Um, what question, Edward?"

"Do you want a long-term thing with me?"

I melted at his vulnerability and lovingly caressed his dear face with my hands. "Edward, why don't we just take this one step at a time? I like you, you like me, let's just get to know each other better and see where it goes. But I _will_ tell you that I'm not in a rush to go anywhere. I'm perfectly happy right where I am."

His sweet smile blossomed into a grin. "So, would you say we're a couple now?"

"Yes, Edward," I smiled. "A very happy couple, in fact. Now come here and kiss me."

**End notes:**

Well? Do these two sappy lovebirds make you as giddy as they do me?

FYI, as undergrads in college, my husband wooed me with jasmine tea, and the scent of that beverage still gives me delicious butterflies in my belly. Naturally I had to give my Edward and Bella the same! And I confess that while I was writing Edward's endearing "proposal", I was in a local café drinking jasmine tea to get me into the right frame of mind!

The song featured in this chapter is _Cheek__To__Cheek_, by Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald. **Sigh** I love these two – his deep, gravelly voice, begging for a throat-clearing cough, combined with her sultry angelic sweetness. Oxymoronic? Maybe. So bite me.

Before I go, I'd like to remind my readers that if anyone is interested in donating anything to the recovery efforts from Hurricane Irene, the info is listed on my profile. Thank you!

_**Thank**____**you**_ again for reading, and _**please**____**take**____**a**____**moment**____**to**____**review**_! Happy Halloween!

**skips away like Alice**


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